Haunted: The 20th Hunger Games
by watercolorgalaxies
Summary: (SYOT CLOSED) Two decades have passed since the Capitol's reign began. Nineteen Victors have been crowned, and at this point the horrifying reality of the Games has sunken in all too well. It's treated like more of a show than a punishment, so President Amelia Metilius decides it'll be the best show the world will ever see.
1. the prologue

_**Rhea Storme, District Two, Victor of the Nineteenth Hunger Games (Age 19)**_

I woke up feeling like I'd spent the night deprived of air and somehow lived. My mouth was too dry to describe, my heart pounded, and the slightest bit of movement hurt. My head pounded. The breaths I _could_ take were shallow and unfulfilling. I felt disgusting. I swore I saw them again.

The Victors I'd spoken to only ever mentioned the perks of surviving the arena. Fame, money, what everyone saw. I believe they would discuss more than these things if they weren't always watched. Our only privacy was within our minds.

One boy, Ty, left the arena a madman. That or he just wasn't good at hiding it as the others. It took four weeks until he was deemed acceptable to go on television, and six until he could interact with his adoring admirers on tour. His story wasn't too disturbing, he only killed his runner up and that was really only more to end the kid's misery. Most of the other Victors couldn't say the same.

 _And I wish I died back there I wish I died back there I wish I-_

Shut up. Shut up. You lived and wishing you were dead would do no good.

I see their faces so often now, almost a year after I left. You'd think I'd gradually get better but they won't stop haunting me. Even the ones I didn't kill, the ones Ruby or Luxe or Caelus did. I could have let them escape, I could have told the other Careers to work on collecting food or water in the bloodbath. Later on, though, there was nothing I could have done but the little ugly voices insisted otherwise.

And the ones I _did_ kill. Their names always are echoing through my mind and I've found myself not being able to forget who they were.

I killed a girl when she was thirteen, how sick am I? One boy had a small brother at home who thought he'd win but he didn't. All because of me. They weren't the only ones but they were the least gruesome and the ones I could think about without nearly throwing up.

All these heartbroken families because I trained to win. All these lives I cut short.

This was what I'd been raised to want but that doesn't excuse a thing, I still fucking killed people.

In an attempt to distract myself even for a split second, I looked up at the clock. Half past one PM. Had I really slept that long? How late was I out last night?

I'd spent the past few days in the Capitol, as past winners were encouraged to reunite with the public a few weeks before the Reapings. They say it's to hype the audiences up but I think the civilians like being able to say they associate with Victors. But the high class parties could become too much. Although I wasn't technically old enough to drink nobody really saw themselves as entitled to stop me and I often ended up dunk. I barely remembered what I did last night.

At this point I'd controlled my breathing and the ache of my arms had died down some, but I needed water. I couldn't move well. Without anything to distract me (which _usually_ ended badly) I rang the bell that notified a maid to assist me.

"What do you need, miss?" A girl I recognized as Stacey opened the door to my room with a smile. "We can have breakfast ready for you in ten minutes."

I felt like shit and had no desire to eat. "No thank you, just water please." My voice was so hoarse, speaking caused a dull but scratchy pain. It was hard to tell whether I was sick or just severely hungover. Ever since the Victory Tour ended I spent most of my time in bed with some ailment.

Stacey's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Of course." She departed and returned with a glass, setting it on the table to my left.

"You have an interview this evening at six o'clock, ma'am." She reminded me as I drank the water. It soothed my throat. "Just so the public can get caught up with you. How you've been doing. The audience is small, you mustn't worry.

I groaned a bit. "How soon will Minnie need me?"

Stacey responded sharply, "Precisely three o'clock. You'll be escorted to your usual dressing room."

"Alright. Thank you." I dismissed her with a wave.

* * *

"And then Cicero said, 'I had a good feeling about her from the start'! Imagine that! One of the top stylists in all of Panem not only knows me and likes my work but was rooting for my tribute!"

Minnie was a sweet girl and I didn't mean to seem haughty but her constant talking proved there was a thin line between endearment and annoyance. Her outfits were always gorgeous: after all, District Two was one of the most popular districts and needed a good stylist, but I always found it difficult dealing with loud people.

I had already been washed, scrubbed, and waxed, and now she was onto my makeup. My skin burned but not terribly. I was used to it at this point and it faded quickly. I was standing on top of a short platform surrounded by tools that looked more like they were meant for dissecting an animal than beauty. Almost everything was either stark white, blue, or silver.

"It's so crazy having a Victor, you know? I knew you since you were just an ordinary girl and now you're a household name!"

It's not that great when you are the Victor, just when you're their friend.

She was spreading a thick foundation all over my face. It felt like a mask. Before the Games all I'd ever wear was eyeshadow, mascara, and a bit of concealer. "You've gotten more tan since I've last seen you. Two full shades darker." It was probably all the outdoor social events now the weather was nice.

"Are you going to say anything?" Minnie asked as she blended it.

I blinked. "Yeah?"

She washed her hands off. "You seem a bit out of it. Everything okay?"

I shrugged, looking down in shame. I was too young for it to be socially acceptable for me to have alcohol. "I'm kind of hungover."

"Rhea Storme! You go to a party well aware you have to speak in front of Panem the next day and begin to drink? The only reason you get away with it is because of your status!"

I considered arguing that I had long forgotten I had an interview but that would only be met with more disapproval. Besides, I didn't feel that bad. The maids had given me some relief pills so my headache was dull if not nonexistent. I was just zoned out.

"I'm sorry, but I feel fine. Or at least less dead than I did when I woke up. Can you just keep doing my makeup?"

She continued. Once my skin was up to par she applied a heavy coat of golden brown eyeshadow and dark liner. My lips were painted cherry red. She did my curly hair up in a partial knot scattered with jewels. It was pretty, I'll admit. As annoying as she was, she had a talent.

"Your carelessness is going to be the death of you." She scowled and I couldn't tell if she meant it as a joke or not.

"I won the Hunger Games." I argued. It was easier when I made it funny. And also, I made a lot of dumb, impulsive decisions during the Games, I just got lucky with them. So maybe she wasn't wrong and one day I'd run out of luck. "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me."

Minnie added one last diamond to my hair. "Then it'll be your ego." I couldn't think of an argument that wouldn't further prove her point so I instead asked, "So what _will_ I wear?" I was nervous. I trusted her but I couldn't help it.

She clasped her hands together. "Give me a second." She ran into a back room and emerged holding a sleek, classy black gown.

Thank God. Not hideous, not too extravagant. If it were there's no way I'd win an argument with her.

I took off the simple white clothes I always had my makeup and hair done in and put on the black dress. It was knee length and made of a shimmering velvet. "Thank you, Minnie. It's lovely." I smiled, trying to seem nice. I'd spent most of my childhood training so that left me with almost no social skills and the only experience I had was with Capitol citizens.

"You're welcome, dear. But don't make a fool of yourself. We all still remember your first interview." I cringed. I was so scared the night before the games I could barely speak and I was shaking. I was visibly green. It led to my district partner making fun of me after, and also probably most of Panem. The only reason anyone sponsored me is because I earned a nine in training.

"I won't." I didn't have as much pressure this time around.

"Okay, good luck out there."

* * *

I bounced my leg as I sat backstage. Adonis Flickerman was introducing himself to the audience (he'd been at this for a decade, they already knew who he was) and preparing for my entrance.

"The Reapings are only in two weeks from today, two weeks. We'll figure out which twenty-four young people will bravely represent their districts in the twentieth Hunger Games. It seems like last year was only yesterday, and we wanted to bring back last year's Victor to get ourselves thrilled for this year's Games. Ladies and gentlemen, Rhea Storme!"

I strode out to the stage and blinked in the spotlights. The audience just looked like a dark mass. A dark mass that was making lots of noise. I fake-beamed as I took my seat next to Adonis. His hair was a sickly green.

"Rhea, I'm so glad to finally see you again! How have you been?"

I looked out at the crowd, which was coming more into focus. I saw Minnie in the front row giving me a thumbs-up.

"I'm good, I'm good. I've enjoyed my time here at the Capitol." I was so awkward it made me feel sick. What was wrong with me?

"Oh come on, we all know that." He winked at me, which I found disgusting since he was probably at least forty. Still, the crowd cheered. "What else?"

I paused for a moment. Being out here made me hyper-aware of what I was doing at all times. "Well, besides the Capitol parties, I've been spending a lot of time overseeing the District Two training. Doing anything I can do so my District brings home another Victor." I flashed a smile. God, if my stage persona was another person I'd fucking hate her.

"That's what I love about District Two, folks. They don't just provide our Peacekeepers, weaponry, and masonry," He was probably saying this to remind everyone that the Districts served a purpose other than being poor, "they give us some of our best tributes!"

Adonis' interviews were usually like this but this whole thing just felt like a big, cheesy commercial.

I kept smiling. "That's right."

"Are you excited to become a mentor? I'd guess you already know your tributes!"

I shook my head. "I'm excited but the training leaders don't let anyone know. I have some ideas but the whole process is very secretive."

Adonis replied, "Well, now I'm sure we won't be disappointed if you've got their back. I'm not going to lie, I was disappointed in your first interview, but your performance in the arena was something else!" The crowd went wild and I forced a grin.

It's weird how I can literally kill children and they'll see me as a hero. I'm used to it but it really makes me think.

"Thank you."

"If you were to go back into the Games, what would you do differently? Additionally, what advice would you give to any potential tributes out there watching us right now?"

I thought for a moment about which answer would appeal the most to the Capitol.

"I'd honestly focus more on survival skills. Sure, my alliance was successful last year, but we would've starved if someone took our food supply. I'd also make a smaller alliance. More likely to stay under the radar." This was all bullshit, I would've been fine if we ran out of food and if I hadn't been forced to by my District partner I'd play it solo.

"And advice to tributes: there are nineteen Hunger Games. You can probably buy some tapes at a market. Do that, and observe how the Victors made it this far. Watch the tributes who died and learn their mistakes. History repeats itself, especially in the arena." I sounded pretentious but I needed something.

"Very wise. You're a smart girl, Rhea."

"Thanks." I crossed my legs and looked around. I felt more at ease. "I'm excited for this year. It should be entertaining."

"It will, trust me." Adonis smiled knowingly.

* * *

 **AN: Hi everybody! Thank you so much for reading. I've decided to write a SYOT to have something to do and get back into writing. Unfortunately, my depression has gotten really awful over the past year so I haven't had any motivation to do anything. I'm trying to lift myself back up, especially for when school starts. However, I might update inconsistently or forget, so please be patient! You're also free to remind me! The rules and form are on my profile. Please submit tributes only through PM. Again, thank you!**


	2. district five

**Ididi Ididi, District Five Female (Age 15)**

I sat down in my bed. A bit of sunlight shone through the dusty air and made a path down to the floor. The room was full of dust but I didn't really care to clean it. I'd have to get some of my only clothes all dirty and doing anything was hard with one full arm. Doing anything was also hard when you'd spent most of your life in one room and only seeing real people once a year, therefore not knowing how said people do things.

I had a spider. I decided to name her Daisy because according to a book of old plants on the shelf, daisies were a pretty flower. The spider wasn't pretty like a flower but pretty like a weird eight-legged thing. She was about half the length of my pinky finger and lived in a web below the windowsill for the past few weeks.

"Good morning, Daisy." I didn't like to be touched so I figured I should leave her alone to catch all the little flies and mosquitoes that bothered me in the summer. Daisy did nothing in response.

I sat down and watched her. She wasn't moving but seemed very alive. Her web had gotten bigger overnight and was light and shiny. Good for her. It looked beautiful. There was still a suspicious lack of bugs.

I spent the next hour watching her. At one point she moved a little further away from me. She didn't need to be scared. I never did much to anything.

The door to my room opened and my mom walked in. This was rare. Usually she just slipped meals under. Was it my bath time?

"Good morning." She said stiffly. "Today is the day of the Reaping. Put this on." She tossed me a big gray dress that I fumbled with. She scoffed as I picked it up and left as I began to change.

The instant I was done she came back in and tugged me by the wrist. I flinched and tried to wave goodbye to Daisy with my other "arm". She disappeared around the corner.

"We're taking you to the square early. Your sister is still asleep. Don't make a sound and stay where we'll put you."

I blinked. Today was one of the days I got to leave? Every year I'd gone to see two people get picked for something in front of everyone. It was not interesting. I'd done a lot of thinking and I had no idea why this was the only thing worth leaving for. I nodded. Her grip hurt.

I also finally got to see the rest of the small house. The kitchen table had three chairs. There were pictures of a little girl who looked like me. But she had two arms. So she got to live and I got to barely-live. She was symmetrical and that meant she was better.

She led me out the front door. The sun was rising. It was much more vibrant in person instead of through a grimy window. It was yellow and red and pink.

I stopped to look at it but my mom tugged me along. "Come on."

So I followed her away.

* * *

 **Sable Isaac, District Five Male (Age 13)**

"And that, kids, is the end of the tour. Thank you and have a good day."

The group began to make their way to the doors. I scribbled down a few more notes in my journal as the guide finished talking and tried to complete a sketch of one of the power generators, but my brother Al pulled me away before I could finish.

"I wanted to look more at the-"

"You can ask Mom and Dad like, tomorrow. You're gonna get left behind. C'mon."

If he was actually _interested_ in these things he'd know it would be weeks before I'd be allowed to check out the power plant. I'd have to get an ID and approval form from one of the Head Peacekeepers, since security was _that_ tight. They were only more lenient on us for the school trip because most of the teachers used to work there.

I shook myself out of his grip and went towards the exit with him. He was following his group of friends who were technically my group of friends too although I feel like if we weren't in the same grade I wouldn't interact with them at all. They were just... intimidating? Older? I didn't know, they just gave off a weird vibe. Besides the fact that they were intimidating and older.

When I was ten I was pushed ahead three grades to my brother's class because I was honestly bored. It wasn't too unusual for Five kids. Most were plain smart with the occasional super-smart standout and according to them I was one of those standouts.

I probably should've just gone ahead two but Al was so protective he didn't want me to be with older kids without him so I was put with the then-thirteen year olds. I was due to graduate at fifteen and then probably land a high-ranked job at one of these plants, so I had to learn all I could now.

Al led me along to the group collecting near the doors. "So, are you anxious about the Reaping?"

I felt bad for whoever would have to go to the Games but my name was only in twice. It wouldn't be me. "Nah. What about you?"

He shrugged. "Sort of."

The teacher opened the door and we ran out to the bus. Al and I grabbed our usual seats near the back before everyone else flooded in.

"Why are you worried?" I asked him. He was usually a tough guy. I was the smaller, shy one. Today he was very off.

Al looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping, which was nearly impossible because the bus was extremely loud. "I just hate the Reapings. I hate the Games. I hate the Capitol for making everyone so scared their kids would be sent off to kill each other. And today, we're gonna watch two of us get chosen for that. One of them could be in this bus right now."

It felt so good to hear someone else say that. The Games were always a taboo subject and nobody ever said a thing about them since cameras were everywhere. Speaking against it was treacherous and our hatred of it had to be left to knowing looks.

Even if I wouldn't be chosen, someone else would be. And they could be the most innocent person in the world and nobody would care.

* * *

 **Ididi Ididi, District Five Female (Age 15)**

I wasn't used to this much sun. Or this much anything in fact. When I got here in the morning it was nice and cool and there were a couple of bunnies.

People gave me odd looks. I had different hair than them and my skin was much lighter. And I had nothing where my lower arm was supposed to be. There was too much noise and too much light so I didn't know whether to cover my eyes or my ears so I shut my eyes and stuck my finger in my one of my ears. Nobody came close to me although the crowd was dense.

Everyone was talking. A man and a woman sat on the stage in front of us. There were two huge glass circles filled with paper. The woman had silver hair even though she looked young and her eyebrows were bright pink. She was wearing white and talking to the man who looked like everyone else. Why was he special?

They talked some more. I didn't talk much. It often felt weird when I would try talking to myself.

The lady finally stood up and tapped a weird machine that made noise. But at least the other people stopped talking. "Hello, hello!" She smiled. Her teeth were gold. She didn't quite look human. "My name is Althea Roma and I'm the District Five Escort!"

"Today we will select two of you young people to represent your District in the Twentieth Annual Hunger Games! An honor indeed." What are Hunger Games? District Five is this place but what are the Hunger Games?

"We'll start with the ladies." She strutted over to one of the circles and chose a paper.

"Ididi Ididi!" Althea called out words I didn't know.

Everything was quiet now. Everyone was looking around for something I didn't know. I didn't know much. All I heard were murmurs.

A girl glanced over at me and said, "You? Are you Ididi Ididi?"

What's an Ididi Ididi? Why am I the Ididi Ididi?

Her friend nodded. "Oh my God, she does look like that crazy lady Alec Ididi."

I didn't understand. Did they pick me because they didn't know me? Or because I was different?

All the girls were looking at me now, even more than they had been before, and nudged me to the middle. I went along until I was standing between the two halves of the crowd. All by myself. Even Althea saw me now and smiled. "Come on over!"

I felt dazed but I stepped up to the stage. I stared out at everyone. They all looked so small from up here. Like flies in Daisy's web.

* * *

 **Sable Isaac, District Five Male (Age 13)**

Poor girl. She was funny-looking and funny-acting but who knew why? For all I knew she was an alien, after all, I'd never seen her once in my life. The Capitol was probably laughing their butts off at some confused kid. I hated to think this but if the male tribute was anything like that Five would be a joke to them.

Althea grinned at Ididi. "Got anything to say to your District?"

Silence overtook the square, broken only by the sound of Ididi breathing heavily into the microphone.

"Very well." Her smile was becoming more and more forced. "Now to the boys."

She shuffled over to the second glass bowl and stuck her gloved hand in. After rustling around for a few seconds she selected a slip. I held my breath as she read out a name,

"Sable Isaac."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I froze and my heart was pounding in my chest. Surely there could be another kid named Sable Isaac?

Practically every thirteen-year-old was looking at me so I guess I didn't have much of a choice. My throat closed up as I walked towards the middle and began to make my way up. Oh God, this wasn't happening.

I was dreaming. This was just a weird dream. I can wake up. I can wake up. I can wake up.

Althea shook my hand which was already violently shaking and before I could process what was going on she shoved the microphone in my face.

"Um, hi." I managed a weak smile although I could feel burning in the back of my eyes. I didn't see Al or any of my friends or parents. "Uh, wish me luck?" It sounded like a question. "Haha."

Everyone was quiet and disappointed. We wouldn't have a Victor this year and they knew it.

* * *

 **AN: First Reaping chapter, yay! I had a lot of fun writing Ididi and Sable, thanks to Dreaming of Starry Skies and my irl best friend for submitting them! Also, fun fact: Ididi was supposed to be illiterate but I kinda wanted to add the bit about her spider. Anyways, answer these questions in the reviews if you want, it'll help me write the story better-**

 **1\. What did you think of these two?**

 **2\. How long do you think they'll last in the arena?**

 **3\. Any way I can improve my writing? (Just don't be a dick I'm sensitive as heck)**

 _ **I'll probably write the Nine Reapings next so stay tuned!**_


	3. district nine

**Mazianna 'Mazie' Ridge, District Nine Female (Age 14)**

I passed the ball over to Flora and she began to dribble it to Clay's goal, running across the dew-covered grass. The cool air felt harsh against my face. She kicked it in and he leaped over to block it but to no avail. The ball bounced off the back of the net. Clay picked it up and tossed it to me with a joking scowl. Flora and I were practicing scoring and working as a team so all he really did was play as the goalie.

We continued for about an hour as the sun rose higher until Flora said she was tired, ran over to the bench, and opened her bag. "I have bread!" She yelled to Clay and I as we ran over. "And some other stuff." She rummaged through and pulled out three apples and a nice amount of caramel candies.

The wooden bench was only long enough for Flora and I so Clay sat on the ground in front of us. She tore the bread in thirds and passed a piece to each of us. I sunk my teeth into it, breaking through the outer crust. It was a bit stale but pleasant regardless. Nobody in Nine could afford to be picky.

Before I knew it I'd devoured all mine while the other two were about halfway done. I must've been hungrier than I thought, and almost comically, at that moment my stomach rumbled.

Flora laughed. "You full? I don't think you should have any more."

Clay grinned at me and I could feel my cheeks getting pink. I had a crush on him and that was one of the only things about myself I kept secret. I'd never trust anyone because God, it was embarrassing. It was the trope of "my best friend's brother" gone _mad_. Besides, he was two years older and I was sure he only saw me as a friend. I tried to ignore it as much as I could but I couldn't help it.

"Nah." I responded, reaching for an apple.

Clay took the second fruit and we munched on them in quiet for a little while. We were in the part of District Nine where food wasn't scarce but it was idiotic to waste even a tiny bit.

Once we were done Flora gave me a handful of caramels. "Reaping day treat from my mom." I hadn't had caramel since I was little. I unwrapped one and let it melt in my mouth. The flavor was good but a bit too sweet.

"Do I get any?" Clay asked. Flora threw one roughly at his head.

"Hey!" He protested, picking it up from his lap and putting it in his mouth. Hell, he was just so cute.

Flora checked her watch as I finished up my caramels. "It's eleven thirty and the Reapings are at one. Should we go back?"

I shrugged. Even the mention of the Reapings made my stomach churn. Before I turned twelve I never really cared although I knew what the Games were. I guess I was selfish in that way.

"I don't wanna." I groaned. "I hate the Reapin-"

Clay and Flora shushed me with glares before I remembered what I said. We were the only ones in this little abandoned soccer field but there was no way to know where the Capitol's cameras were and what counted as treason. I think if you insulted the President's outfit they'd execute you.

"Anyways." Clay said to break the silence. "We should get going. Mom's probably gonna make us get dressed up. See you later, Mazie." He gave me finger guns and Flora and I hugged. And I was left sitting in a field, daydreaming about a crush the day I could possibly get sent to the bloody Hunger Games.

* * *

 **Dakota Nettle, District Nine Male (Age 18)**

The noon sun beat down on my back and the watering can was heavy and fairly hard to keep up. I walked through the field of still-green grains, pouring water over them until the soil was damp and then continuing down the line.

I was watering the left side, and my best friend Filbert the right. We usually talked up a storm (mostly me) but I was still sleepy. The work day didn't usually start until later.

Waking up early to work on the morning of the Reaping wasn't ideal, but it could be worse. Anyways, I'd rather be earning money than doing nothing with my time. I was the oldest of seven, which was a lot even by farmer standards, and three of us were too young to collect tesserae.

We reached the end of our small field and stepped over the sprouts to head back through the neighboring row.

"You're lucky you don't have to stress over the Reapings anymore." I told him as I looked off into the distance towards the other side of the meadow. "There's not really a chance I _specifically_ am gonna be chosen but my name is in there seventy times. Things happen."

"You'll be fine." He reassured me. I was mildly surprised. Usually I had to talk a couple of times before he acknowledged me beyond a simple nod. "At your age literally all my friends and I had our names on a hundred twelve slips each. We all made it and the tribute was that preppy thirteen year old who probably had never seen a shovel in his life."

True, but that didn't mean I would evade it. "You're right. This is probably the most you've talked since last year."

He cracked a smile and we continued to water the plants. At least it was summer and watering was all we needed to do, and that was only if it wasn't raining. Planting and harvesting required way more effort and although I liked having something to do, it was just too much.

We reached the end of the field. Filbert and I waved each other goodbye and walked opposite directions down the dirt road. My house was about half a mile from work. A couple dozen other young adults and I were assigned to take care of that specific plot and were paid according to how well we did.

The sky was pale blue and cloudless. Ironically, Reaping days always seemed to be the nicest.

After about ten minutes of walking I turned onto the tiny street close to home and stepped up to the doorway. I knocked before coming in, and my girlfriend Anise was sitting at the table in the small kitchen, reading. "Dakota!" She stood up, smiled and kissed my cheek. "How was work? I would've gone but I needed to get ready." She was wearing a red dress and a bit of makeup.

"You look beautiful." I grinned at her. "It was normal. Filbert actually talked to me about the Reaping and said there was still just a tiny chance of me getting chosen."

Anise nodded. "He's very right. Seventy isn't much in the grand scheme of things."

Everything would be fine. I was stupid for worrying.

* * *

 **Mazianna 'Mazie' Ridge, District Nine Female (Age 14)**

I stood next to Flora near the front of the fourteen-year-old girls section. It was now hot as hell and I wanted to get this show on the road. Two kids would get picked and life would go on, it was harsh but true. People died all the time, why was it all of a sudden such a big deal?

Flora was tapping her foot and fidgeting. "Come on, I'm anxious."

As if on cue, the escort, August, a flamboyant man with yellow eyes, stood up and held the microphone to his face. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! Or is it the afternoon?" He shrugged. "The train lag has me confused." What did that mean? Probably a stupid Capitol problem.

"We are gathered here today to select two tributes to compete in the Hunger Games for District Nine. Twenty years ago, the Capitol came to the consensus that, as punishment for the rebels' treason, each of the twelve established Districts would send two children from ages twelve to eighteen to fight to the death-"

Wow, they said the d-word. Incredible.

"-in a carefully constructed arena." He over enunciated words and often left dramatic pauses between syllables, like he was talking to a toddler.

Flora stifled a giggle. "Ah-ree-NA." She whispered and I found myself almost-laughing. How did _anyone_ take this guy seriously?

"In these glass spheres, there are thousands of paper slips, each with a name of a boy or girl eligible for the Games. I have been granted the honor of randomly selecting our two tributes. Let us begin."

We were supposed to clap but I barely heard a sound.

My name was only in three times so I wasn't afraid. It would be some poor girl in both senses of the word, she'd die in the bloodbath, her friends would cry. I knew how it went.

August stood in front of the first jar and stuck his polished hand inside, and picked the slip on the very top.

He unfolded it and it felt like forever.

"Mazianna Ridge!"

I felt like my lungs were getting crushed for a moment before seeing red. It's _damn_ unfair. My eyes and brain weren't catching up with my body as I pushed my way through the others and emerged with my fists clenched, shaking as I climbed the stairs.

I glared out at the crowd. My head was now clear enough to notice a group of girls my age, including Flora, looking shaken. And honestly, good. If I was going to die, I didn't owe these people a thing.

* * *

 **Dakota Nettle, District Nine Male (Age 18)**

I felt sorry for the girl who was Reaped. She was aggressive, shoving her way up to the front, but you couldn't blame her. She was only fourteen and I understood people well enough to get that it was only a manifestation of fear. She was likely a good person in a bad situation.

I hated to admit it but I was scared I'd get chosen. Titania and Brianne were safe but Cliff had his name in 50 times and mine 70. The odds weren't in our favor. While I'd probably stand a better chance than the average tribute in the Games but I'd never kill anyone. I just didn't have it in me, and the kids from One and Two have been ruthless since the second year.

But there were thousands of names, and taking tesserae was common in District Nine. It wouldn't be me.

August's heels clicked as he walked over to the boys' bowl. I couldn't see Cliff but I kept my fingers crossed for him.

He stuck his hand in and selected the slip on the very top without hesitation. It had already been decided before my eyes. He unfolded the paper and my heart was beating faster than normal and I knew it was irrational but-

"Dakota Nettle!" His voice boomed. "Is there a Dakota Nettle here?"

Oh no. There were at least fifteen thousand slips and only seventy were mine but it _had_ to be someone, right?

I wish I could've hugged Anise or Cliff or Filbert but the first two were in other sections of the square and Filbert was way in the back with the other adults. So I walked through the space the other boys had cleared out for me to the middle. A few gave me sorry looks as I walked to the podium.

Although there was a camera just a few feet from me, I wasn't paying attention. I scanned each section but I didn't see my family or friends at all. My heart sunk. I'd get to say goodbye for five minutes but I wanted to be sure they weren't reacting too terribly.

"Congrats to our tributes, Dakota Nettle and Mazianna Ridge!" The crowd politely applauded.

"Mazie." She muttered.

"Alright now, shake hands, you two."

Mazie looked at me. Some of the anger in her dark eyes had died down and she extended her hand. I gripped it and shook, offering her a slight smile. She didn't return it.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter! I appreciate every single one of you. Wherever you are right now, I'd like to ask you to drink a cup of water because I've been drinking more water lately and it's made me feel ~healthier~. And listen to Kesha's new album. Self care is important. Anyway, shout out to jul312 and Elim9 for submitting Mazie and Dakota! Questions:**

 **1\. What did you think of these two?  
2\. Predictions on how long they'll last?**

 **Also, continue those little brackets (that's not the right word, my brain is dry from writing) where it shows which characters you love/hate/like/etc.! They'll be easy to use as a reference for later and help me decide who survives longer. Thank you and be sure to follow, favorite, and review!**


	4. district one

**Cerise Ambersmith, District One Female (Age 17)**

I tapped my nails against the marble table and looked out the window. Ezra's dark limousine was finally pulling up to the driveway.

My whole life I've dealt with secrets. Gain someone's trust, learn all about them, then give away the information in return for something else. It started when I was seven and became "friends" with the other kids only to know how to take advantage of them. Once I became a teenager, I sold secrets for money.

Over time this made me notorious so now I could only trick the stupid ones. Luckily, in District One those were easy to find.

The mayor's daughter had slept with the Head Peacekeeper. Before that, she was a virgin. I almost felt bad, she was sixteen and naive while he was gross and in his thirties. But that was news I could sell for thousands. They were celebrities to the caliber of the President's kids and I'd learned the rich and famous were too easy to figure out.

In this case I was making a deal with a shady mine owner named Ezra. He was a big businessman, had a few million to his name. Hot wife, plenty of diamonds. The usual. Jade had told me her secret over the phone and I held the sacred audio tape in my hands.

He could use it for blackmail or get some reporters to haggle over it. It wasn't really my business as long as I got the money.

The door unlocked and Ezra walked in, placing his suitcase on the table and pulling up a chair. "Miss Ambersmith." His voice was oily.

He raised an eyebrow at my pink hair, probably thinking I was an edgy teenager. I didn't have an argument against that.

"Mr. Sinclair." I held the tape up so he could get a good view. He nodded in approval and handed me a cassette player out of his suitcase. I slid it in, pressed a few buttons, and heard Jade's distressed voice.

"Cerise, I'm so worried. Last night I went to bed with Roland Gleam and we didn't use protection, I'm such an _idiot_ , he's the goddamn Head Peacekeeper." She cried loudly. "You're my best friend, what should I do?" The tape cut off. There was nothing else in there to hear besides more whining and I didn't want to bore a millionaire with that shit.

"Some friend you are." He noted.

"We're not friends." I targeted her only two weeks ago, she was miserably lonely.

"If you can get someone you dislike to confide something like that to you, you'd be a fine lawyer."

"Thank you."

"How much do you want, girl? Four grand?"

I flipped my hair, making sure to show off my chest. You had to do what you had to do. "Five grand?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Fine. Five grand." He took some bills out of his wallet and handed them to me. I counted them up. Ten 500-dollar notes. Perfect.

He took the cassette player with the tape inside and put it back in his suitcase with a grin. "Thank you. The media's gonna love this. Won't look too good for _your_ reputation, though. Jade will know you told someone."

"I know." I gave him a smile and left the room. "Goodbye, Ezra." I knew how I'd deal with that.

* * *

 **Chance Garnet, District One Male (Age 17)**

Lacy held a cigarette between her fingers. "You ready to volunteer? I'm sure your parents are."

Her, Jett, and I were sitting on the balcony, looking out at Lacy's family's huge yard. It was so pretty I could stare at it and daydream for hours.

"I think. I'm the most trained out of everyone in the District, even the eighteen-year-olds. I'm honestly sparing their lives."

Jett snorted. "Aren't you a little saint?"

Lacy rolled her brown eyes. "Off to kill kids. Volunteers are fucking insane. I'm glad my parents never enrolled _me_ in training."

I secretly agreed. My mom and dad were absolutely obsessed with the idea of having a Victor, so I began to learn how to fight when I was four. I didn't get much of a childhood since I would train nearly every waking moment. I liked to think my parents thought of me as more than an opportunity for money and fame, but they probably didn't. They'd forget about me entirely if I didn't win.

"Anyways, I hope you have fun if you don't die." She batted her eyes sweetly. "And you buy me stuff with your Victor money."

I didn't think I was going to die, and I was actually excited to be known by the Capitol. Finally I'd amount to something.

"You already have a bloody mansion, shut the hell up." Jett snapped. "Let the peasants live a little."

Lacy blew smoke in his face. "Fine." He coughed and she snickered.

My two best friends didn't really hate each other, their relationship was just 90% insulting each other in an affectionate way. They were both relatively easier on me because I was "too soft" to poke fun at them.

"Either of you want a cigarette? My maids really don't give a fuck if it's not legal yet."

Jett shook his head. "I'll live long while you die of drug abuse at twenty and Chance dies in the Games."

I laughed. "You guys are the worst."

"Even me?" Lacy simpered.

"Especially you." I scowled jokingly.

Lacy put down her cigarette and looked at me. "So you're really volunteering, huh."

"Yup."

She began to apply her lipstick. "There are gonna be five others who trained just as hard as you and maybe even some tough kids from the outer Districts. What makes you so sure you're gonna beat them?"

"I'm not like the other Careers." Jett began to snicker.

"What are you, a twelve-year-old girl? You're not specia-"

"Shut it." Lacy punched him in the arm lightly. "Go on."

"They just care about killing people without any real strategy. I've met the kids at training. They only practice with one weapon and know nothing about survival. And that's what always kills the Careers. Remember what Rhea Storme said? Learn from the mistakes of the ones who died. That's what I've been doing."

"So you focused on something that doesn't involve beating the shit out of a dummy? Amazing." Jett was my rival in training and jealous I had been chosen to volunteer.

"He's way smarter than you'll ever be, even though that's not saying much." Lacy replied. "I think you've got a chance, Chance. See what I did there?"

"Haha, thanks."

"And when you win I get half your money. Deal?"

I sighed. "Deal."

* * *

 **Cerise Ambersmith, District One Female (Age 17)**

Now I had two reasons to volunteer. One, I'd been training to since I was eight. That was obvious.

Two, as soon as her scandals hit the news, Jade could have me executed. I was the only one who knew of her endeavors so it couldn't be anyone else who spilt the tea. Nobody could stand her; I only befriended her for whatever secrets she had. She was a bit of a bimbo but she would understand right away.

I was wearing a form-fitting black dress with diamonds around my neck. Even the non-volunteers were dressed to the nines since everyone wanted to look good for the television.

I recognized most of the other girls in my section from training. It would pretty much be a bloodbath to get to the front. I had confidence it would be me, plus I'd make a better tribute than any of them anyways. They were all dumb and I'd trained harder. In a battle of wits or fists I'd take them down in an instant.

The three previous Victors, along with the mayor, escort, and Head Peacekeeper, were all sitting on elegant chairs lined up neatly. Luxe and Sapphire (the Victors of the second and thirteenth Games respectively) were in a heated conversation. Sapphire was staring daggers at him while he was rather nonchalant. I wondered what it was about. Mentoring strategies?

The escort, Moriah Glisten, stood up and held the microphone. "Welcome, everyone!" She trilled in her high-pitched voice. "Welcome!"

The crowd went wild and I clapped with them.

"Today is Reaping day, so that means we'll be selecting two tributes to represent District One in the Twentieth Annual Hunger Games! How exciting."

She continued, "As a reward for being the most obedient District, the Capitol has provided us with a special video to show at the Reapings." The big projection screens on each side of the town hall began to show the Capitol emblem.

The national anthem played from the big speakers at the front of the square as the emblem disappeared into footage from the rebellion.

"War. Bloodshed. Treason." The monotone voice of President Amelia Metilius blared as the screens showed bombs going off over the Capitol. "The Districts had to pay for their rebellion." Videos of dying soldiers. Because that was the best thing to show a big group of teenagers.

"So out of the ashes, the Capitol had an idea. Every year, the twelve Districts would send two children, age twelve to eighteen, to compete in the Hunger Games where they would fight to the death, until a lone Victor was crowned. It would serve as a reminder of the Capitol's power, but also its mercy." The screens now displayed footage of the Games.

"And now, decades later, Panem is prospering. Everything is in order and we are in a time of peace." The anthem faded away and the screens went black again.

Moriah looked pleased. "Now, to select the tributes."

Fuck. It was my time.

She strode to the first bowl and dug her hand all the way to the bottom, pulling out a slip.

She cleared her throat. "Gli-"

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" Chaos erupted right then. At least a dozen girls began to dash up to the podium. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two beginning a full-on fight.

Before I fully understood what was happening, I was standing in front of the entire District with a mic in my face. "Name, dear?"

"Cerise Ambersmith," I announced. "your next Victor."

* * *

 **Chance Garnet, District One Male (Age 17)**

I knew that girl. Well, I'd heard of her and occasionally crossed paths with her in training. She was the crazy one who nobody with more than three brain cells could trust. It would certainly be interesting (and terrifying) being her ally. We'd probably wake up to a knife in someone's back.

Lacy was off in the girls' section and I was standing next to Jett. "You nervous, buddy?"

"Nah." I smiled. "I'll miss you though."

"I still can't believe you're gonna have to give the rich kid half your winnings." He rolled his eyes. "And I'll miss you too. It'll be hard dealing with Lacy all by myself for a while."

Moriah reached into the boy's bowl and took a slip of paper from the middle. My heart was racing and I shook my legs. I'd have to run up and beat everyone else to volunteer. This was it, this was my purpose in life.

"Rian Gre-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" She was immediately cut off by several shouts. I raced to the podium, nearly tripping on the stairs. I was up there before anyone else.

I made it.

I looked down at the other boys who were trying to beat me. Some I knew from training. They glared at me so I gave them a friendly, slightly sarcastic smile. I was a tribute. My heart was warm. As of now, I was _famous_.

"Hello, sir. What's your name?" Moriah chirped.

I leaned into the mic. "Chance Garnet." I winked at the crowd and they cheered.

Moriah blushed and said, "Very well."

"District One, I am beyond proud to present your tributes, Cerise Ambersmith and Chance Garnet!" She beamed as the audience went crazy, then in a softer voice, "Shake hands."

Cerise smiled at me and enthusiastically shook my hand. She batted her eyelids and whispered, "It's so nice to meet you."

* * *

 **AN: Two updates in two days? I'm on _fire_ , damn. Also, we're 1/4 through the Reapings and I'm 1/4 through writing the same chapter with different characters over and over again! I'm starting high school in nine days so then I'll probably update around once a week. I think we'll have an exciting Career pack this year. I still haven't gotten submissions for the boys from District Two and Four so submit! Thank you to The Girl With The Knives and my irl friend (same one who made Sable, actually) for making these two! Questions:**

 **What did you think of Cerise and Chance?**

 **How long do you think they'll last in the arena?**

 **If you're a sophomore or older, do you have any advice for rising freshmen? (Not SYOT related but I need help lmao)**

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_


	5. district twelve

**Harper Foulard, District Twelve Female (Age 12)**

I rummaged through the garbage can. It was mostly dirty cloth or general waste, yet sometimes I'd find something okay to eat. Or something that would taste old and gross, but wasn't entirely rotten. It wasn't like I had many options.

My mom had me when she was sixteen and my deadbeat dad abandoned us on the streets. We would've both died if it wasn't for Gretchen, a sweet old woman who took us in. I ended up fine but my mom died soon after. She was just too sick.

Gretchen raised me most of my childhood until she died two years ago and I was left all by myself. I missed her more than I'd like to admit.

I'd seen the District Twelve orphanages and I knew to stay far away. The kids in there looked drained of life without anything they could do about it, and I'd never want that to happen to me.

I finally found a half-eaten apple in the junk. It wasn't even dirty. I bit into the fruit and it tasted like cardboard but I didn't care, I hadn't ate anything all morning. I devoured it until there was nothing left, not even a seed. Even then, my stomach wouldn't be quiet. It almost hurt.

I'd have to take a risk and attempt to steal something. Maybe everyone would be too distracted by the Reapings later today to notice me.

My name was in the bowl only twice. The tesserae I collected had been enough to sustain me for about two weeks. I didn't want to take any more because I was too terrified of increasing my odds. What chance would a starving twelve year old stand?

I ran away from the trash can and through the main street. I was small and nimble enough to get around without anyone looking at me. My feet lightly pattered against the uneven stone road and I wove my way between groups of people, keeping an eye out for open pockets or exposed valuables.

I spotted a boy who looked around fifteen with open, loose pockets. I followed him and quickened my pace as I ran through the Reaping Day crowd until I was right behind him.

I slipped my hand in his pocket and felt a coin. Score. I ran off before he would notice anything.

I decided not to do any more pick-pocketing because I only ever stole when I had no other options. It was mostly the fear of getting caught that stopped me, not moral reasons.

Near the edge of the District, there were two shops with a tiny alleyway between them. Small enough to go unnoticed and keep Peacekeepers out, but not too small for a malnourished twelve-year-old to pass through.

I slid between the buildings, stood with my back facing the left wall, and inched my way forward until I was able to turn and walk. A flaw in its construction made the alley thinner on the outsides, so it was comfortable enough having a shelter in the middle.

"Did you find any food?" Dottie asked, resting her head on a raggedy old pillow. "I'm hungry."

"I found half an apple but ate it, I was starving." She began to groan. "But- I stole a coin." I showed her the piece of gold I stole from the boy.

"Ooh." She admired it. "Whatcha gonna get?"

"Food for later." I told her, putting the coin in my (well concealed) pocket. "After the Reapings, though."

"Fine." Dottie sat up. "Patch is out pick-pocketing. Maybe she'll find something too."

"Maybe." I was thinking about the Reapings. My name was only in the bowl twice but it was far from uncommon for a twelve-year-old to get picked. Luckily for them, Patch and Dottie were both eleven so they didn't have to worry.

You could say I didn't have to worry either, but that didn't stop me from doing it anyway.

* * *

 **Emerson Sayne, District Twelve Male (Age 14)**

I threw the rock at the window as hard as I could, smiling when I heard the familiar sound of shattering glass. It felt good to ruin something.

"Shit, nice one, Em." Parker said as he picked up a pebble. "I'm gonna get it through the roof."

"No you won't." Brandon scoffed. "It's probably too well made. Try for the other window."

 _Would this make you get out of the stupid mines and treat me like your son for once, Dad?_

"Fine." Parker groaned. He missed the window and I smirked.

"Nice try. You did your best."

"Oh fuck off, bitch boy." Parker growled. "You just had a lucky shot."

Brandon rolled his eyes at the two of us. "You're both idiots."

We were well concealed by the evergreens around the merchant area so there wasn't a need to worry. Most people were in the square for the Reaping anyways. The Peacekeepers were preoccupied with more important things than a little bit of damage on a house.

"Watch this." I picked up one of the bigger rocks and launched it at the wooden roof. It flew and flew and-

CRASH!

The roof caved in and left a big, gaping hole. I gasped. I didn't think it would work. The three of us stared at it in shocked silence.

"That was fucking amazing!" Brandon laughed. "Some rich asshole's gonna get it!"

"HEY!" A Peacekeeper was pointing at us and walking up the hill we were on top of. Fuck. Not again. "Stay right there." He yelled. We weren't going to do that.

I darted away. Down the hill and around the merchant neighborhood, moving as quickly as I could, not looking back.

I made it to the main street and took a moment to catch my breath. Parker and Brandon weren't in sight. They might've been caught by the Peacekeeper or might have gone a different way.

It didn't matter to me much. I had so many friends who'd gotten in bad trouble and left, I had lost all feeling when it came to losing people. They were all interchangeable.

The center of the District was crowded with everyone heading to the Reapings so I just followed them. My dad probably didn't even care about the Reapings, he was always in the goddamn mines. I wasn't going to get picked but it's a tradition to wish your kids luck and give them a token.

Why the hell did it matter? I never saw him at all. Why should I care what _he_ does?

* * *

 **Harper Foulard, District Twelve Female (Age 12)**

District Twelve only had one Victor out of all nineteen. Her name was Azalea Monsoon and she only won because she was used to surviving in rough circumstances. The arena that year was a forest with no food or water at the Cornucopia, so the tributes had to make do. Most of them starved or died from dehydration.

I remembered watching those Games with Gretchen on the tiny television in her home. I was old enough to understand them at nine, and when she was crowned Victor the District erupted in celebration.

It was a little glimmer of hope for the least fortunate of Panem. We'd only lost one kid that year, and Twelve had finally made a name for itself. Right after her Victory Tour ended, however, the flames settled back into ashes and the ashes into dust. And with the next Reapings the dust blew away into nothing.

Lillian Hypnos, our escort, seemed irritated at something. I didn't know _what_ , since she was a Capitol citizen who had everything she could ever need. She was glaring out at us with her round, unnatural purple eyes.

People from the Capitol didn't look like people, and next to District Twelve they were like aliens.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Her voice sounded cheerful but her face looked dead serious. "Today is Reaping day, so we're going to pick two tributes for the Twentieth Annual Hunger Games. Of course, you all know why we're here." She forced a laugh.

The crowd was silent. There wasn't really any tolerance for anyone like her in the poorest District.

Lillian strode over to the first bowl, the town hall towering behind her.

"Ladies first."

My name was in there twice. I turned the gold coin over and admired it some more. I'd hopefully spend it on a good loaf of bread or even a pastry later. My mouth was watering at the thought.

Lillian chose a slip at the top, until putting it back and grabbing another.

"Harper Foulard!"

I froze. It was the first time I've heard my full name in years and it meant I was being called to my death, oh God.

"Miss Foulard?"

I choked back tears and felt a burning sensation in my eyes. All the girls in my group were looking around, unsure who Harper Foulard was exactly. I raised my hand, shaking, and wove my way through the crowd just like I did this morning.

All eyes were on me as I climbed the stairs and felt a ringing noise in my ears.

Lillian smiled at me, exposing her pearly, sharp white teeth. "Anything to say, dear?"

I scowled at her. She was why I was here and why I would die and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "Just pick the guy and get on with it." My voice was scratchy and fear overtook me.

I'd spent my whole life evading death and it was all for nothing.

* * *

 **Emerson Sayne, District Twelve Male (Age 14)**

I literally could not care less about the Games and I just wanted to get home and forget what happened with the Peacekeepers earlier. My name was in there just three times, since I flat out refused to take any tesserae. So it wasn't like I'd get Reaped. Or I'd care about little miss "pick-the-guy-and-get-on-with-it". What a brat.

Lillian shuffled around all the papers for such a long time it felt like forever. Dumb bitch, get on with it already.

I looked around at the other fourteen-year-old boys. Some were shaking and one was crying. What a bunch of pussies. I bet now they regretted putting their names in a shit ton of times. This was why nobody took District Twelve seriously.

"Emerson Sayne!"

Fuck. Fuck. Shit. My name was in there three fucking times and of course they chose me over one of the eighteen year olds who could possibly win. Fuck. Someone will volunteer, right?

The kids around me all took a couple of steps back, probably not wanting to be mistaken for me. Again, what a bunch of pussies. I stormed past them and stomped up to the podium, glaring at the crowd.

At least my dad will regret ignoring me.

"Hello, you must be Emerson! Got anything to say to your District?"

Fuck them all. Fuck them all. A bunch of pathetic cowards.

"No." I clenched my fists and frowned at Lillian, whose smile didn't even falter. "Not a fucking word."

* * *

 **AN: These two were fun to write. Emerson reminds me of actual fourteen year old guys I know, so props to his creator! His part probably also contained the highest frequency of swearing I've ever written, and I swear like a sailor. I'm probably going to use his edginess as comic relief. Also, sorry this chapter was kinda short. Thanks to platypus27 and Elim9 for submitting them. I still have a few slots open including two Careers so submit! Questions:**

 **1\. Opinions of Harper and Emerson?**

 **2\. How long do you think they'll last in the arena?**

 **Thank you so much for reading and thanks for all the reviews!**


	6. district ten

**Dawn Rhodes, District Ten Female (Age 15)**

I yawned, resting my chin in my palm and my elbow on the fence. I hadn't slept well that night, since today was Reaping day. That was bad enough, but I had to do the early-early morning shift guarding the chicken coops from predators.

They usually came hunting from four to five AM so it was quite the job, scaring off foxes and raccoons while very, very sleepy. But I was good at it, so at least I was paid a decent salary.

The sunrise was bold red and cast a lovely glow across the fields and barns. My shift ended at dawn. My name being Dawn was a complete coincidence.

I didn't see Kailee coming out to take my place, however, so I had to stay put until she was here. Maybe I could tell someone about her being late and get a little extra money, or maybe not.

It was an uneventful morning. All I saw was a couple of rats scurrying towards one of the coops, but they'd only be after the leftover chicken feed. Nothing serious. They weren't hard to scare off either, I just had to chase them away without worrying about making too much noise.

I decided to check around all the coops one last time, just to be safe. There were three I was in charge of guarding and they were average sized, easy to manage. Even though the dark made it a little more difficult.

No animals were in sight. At all. That was unusual. Was I missing something?

The sun rose some more, painting the sky orange and pink. I could look at it for hours but it would only last for about twenty minutes, and I had more important things to do with those twenty minutes.

I stretched out my arms and began to walk down the road back to my house. My shift ended so if Kailee wasn't going to do her job it wasn't my fault.

I opened the door to my house and took my dusty shoes off at the front. Bessie, my older sister, was eating an apple in the kitchen, even though she appeared to be mostly asleep. My guess was she wanted to get up early as possible so she got more time to prepare for the Reapings. Typical. But, as an eighteen-year-old, she could be far worse.

"G'morning Dawn." She mumbled, resting her head on the table.

"Good morning." I whispered. It was still around six thirty am, so I knew better than to wake up my parents.

I sat down on my bed and quickly fell asleep. That was the best way to spend the most stressful morning of the year.

* * *

 **Thrash Goodbourne, District Ten Male (Age 18)**

I grit my teeth as I raised my knife. The calf's legs were all tied together and it was staring at me helplessly. I didn't think it knew it was about to die, but someone in the Capitol requested calf meat so nobody had a choice.

It wasn't right but you had to do what you had to do.

Just a stab to the heart, without damaging the rest of its body too much. Just a stab, just a stab. Let the knife kill it quickly.

I was supposed to be used to this. Was there something wrong with me?

It wasn't the time to think about morals.

I thrust the knife right into the calf's middle and watched as it fell limp. Blood gushed out of the wound, so much I felt bad for the slaughterhouse cleaners. Its eyes glazed over and it lay there pitifully. Poor thing, I thought as I pulled the blade out.

The calf was heavy, and quite literally dead weight. I lifted it up by the legs and carried it to the butcher down the road, straining my muscles on the way. It left a rose-colored trail on the dirt.

I walked through the open door and placed the animal on the big, wide table. Finn, the butcher, nodded at me as he sharpened his knives. He was surrounded by various chunks of meat and a fair amount of blood. "Well done, boy. Now run along, Reapings start in half an hour." He said through his scraggly beard.

I looked at the old wooden clock and saw he was right. I was bewildered- wasn't it just eight am an hour ago? Probably a silly mistake on my part.

"Alright, thank you sir. Good day." I ran out and back to my family's little cottage, right down the street. I took the opportunity to do extra work whenever I could since we weren't very well off. Having seven kids in the family meant you could do more work, but it also meant there were more mouths to feed.

My home was chaos as soon as I opened the door. Dahlia was convinced she'd be Reaped, although that was ridiculous. She only took two tesserae, the least out of everyone, and was crying into Mom's dress. It wasn't abnormal, every twelve-year-old had that fear.

Eliot and Tomas were arguing about something or other, Jay was yelling at Lila for stealing her necklace, and ten-year-old Caleb just seemed very confused about all this. I was honestly too preoccupied to care.

I sighed and climbed the stairs to my tiny room. My mom, bless her heart, had laid out a gray sweatshirt and dress pants for me to wear. I changed and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't consider myself too attractive, but this outfit was nice.

Before I knew it, it was time for my last Reaping until my main concern would shift from myself to my little brothers and sisters.

* * *

 **Dawn Rhodes, District Ten Female (Age 15)**

My thumb stung from the blood extraction. My wound, if you could even call it that, was pretty much invisible, but the needle must've struck a nerve and caused more pain than it should have.

I tucked my hands into my pockets and looked around. I was taller than most of the girls so I had a good view of the crowd although I was technically part of it. District Ten was large in population size, with thousands of kids eligible to be Reaped. They ranged from tiny-twelve year-olds with their hair in pigtails to huge, muscular eighteen-year-olds who could maybe beat a Career in a fight.

I'd styled my black, curly hair into a braid for the occasion and wore a pale yellow dress that shone beautifully against my dark skin. My family was on the richer side of the District where we could afford a nice outfit for important days.

Unfortunately, not everyone was this lucky. A couple of poor girls in rags were staring at my dress. I looked away from them, it was uncomfortable.

Our two Victors were named Calius and Lordan. They'd won the sixth and fifteenth games, both because they were strong from farming. Their stories were similar and both brought brief amounts of fame to District Ten. Our glory was always short-lived.

I liked to pretend our escort was named Gabriel because he'd play the part of an angel, guiding the tributes and protecting them as they came close to death. But it was more likely he was called Gabriel because he was convinced he looked like an angel. His silver hair was slicked back and his goatee was flecked with white. He spent most of his time admiring his highly-modified facial features with his pocket mirror.

Indeed, he just had to check his reflection one last time before standing up and tapping the microphone. Everyone, including the kids who were talking amongst themselves, turned towards him.

"Welcome, citizens, to the District Ten Reaping!"

He smiled as the square applauded politely.

"We shall select our two tributes to represent District Ten in the Twentieth Annual Hunger Games. Twenty years ago, the Capitol decided once a year, each District would send two children from age twelve to eighteen to fight to the death in an arena,"

Until one lone Victor remained. I knew. The Capitol was one of the only things I was impatient with.

"Ladies first!" He bared his teeth.

I was fine, my name was in the bowl four times. I decided the bright blue sky was more worth my time and gazed up at it. The clouds were fluffy and pretty. Gabriel called out,

"Dawn Rhodes!"

What?

That couldn't be right.

What the hell? I looked around, confused. I felt like my heart was about to burst out of my ribcage. My eyes fluttered and all of a sudden my head felt very light.

I stumbled up to the podium in a daze, nearly tripping over my own feet. This couldn't be happening. There was no chance of me getting Reaped. Ten thousand slips of paper must have been in the bowl, they surely didn't choose one of the four with my name on them.

"H-hi." I mumbled, staring out at the crowd. Someone might volunteer, right? Bessie or Kailee? Oh no, my parents were probably in tears.

I didn't understand any of this.

* * *

 **Thrash Goodbourne, District Ten Male (Age 18)**

Dawn was the only normal-looking person on the podium, even though judging by her appearance she was of relatively high status. If she even had a job it probably wouldn't help her in the arena. She looked petrified with wide eyes and visibly shallow breaths. I was worried she would faint as she went up. I wished I could help her, nobody deserved to suffer a dread like that.

I had seven little siblings, four of whom were over twelve and took tesserae. And there were also my friends. I wouldn't admit it out loud with my dying breath but I was afraid. The odds were never in our favor.

Gabriel looked her up and down, seeming disappointed. He was likely expecting a big, tough farm kid. Still, he managed a smile and announced, "Time to pick the boy."

My name was in the bowl twenty-four times, I thought, watching Gabriel shuffle the slips around. Twenty-four wasn't a whole lot, I'd be fine.

He held up one paper to the light and his shrill voice rang, "Thrash Goodbourne!"

My hands shook and I heard nothing. Just my blood rushing in my ears. Everything seemed far away.

I snapped out of it and blinked. I was the tribute.

I stood taller and put my shoulders back in an attempt to seem bigger and tougher, and walked to the podium. Everyone was quiet as I made my way up the stairs and gave the crowd a solemn but intimidating look.

"Well, well, you're a tough looking guy, aren't you?" Gabriel laughed, his dark eyes sparkling. "You're Thrash Goodbourne?"

"Yes." My deep voice boomed. This felt so unnatural.

"Excellent." He said, turning back towards the square. "Now, give it up for our two tributes, Dawn Rhodes and Thrash Goodbourne!"

The crowd cheered. They weren't too enthusiastic. If I were there I wouldn't be either.

Dawn outstretched her hand and I shook it. She looked how I felt- a scared mess of thoughts.

I had a hard time processing all this, but one thing rang clearly in my mind.

I wasn't going to die in the Games. And if I did, I wouldn't go down without a fight.

* * *

 **AN: I'm baaaaack! Sorry I didn't update for a lil while, I think I was in a weird dissociative mood all weekend? I don't know. But anyways, here is your chapter! Thank you to yyvonnee and my irl friend (not the one who made Cerise and Sable) for submitting Thrash and Dawn! I think they both have a good chance of making it decently far but who knows? Thank y'all for reading and reviewing. It really makes me happy there are people out there who read my stuff and enjoy it, like holy heck! You guys are actually spending some of your time on something I wrote! Anyways, I'll stop rambling and get on with the questions.**

 **1\. Who did you like more, Thrash or Dawn?**

 **2\. Survival predictions?**


	7. district three

**Alatic "Tick" Brown, District Three Female (Age 17)**

I shook my spray can as Beacon sketched out a design on the concrete wall.

"You sure the mayor's at a meeting? We could get sent to jail for this." I asked, looking over at Ambi.

She glared at me. "When have I _ever_ gotten us caught? Aren't we famous for pulling this shit off?"

"Yeah." I muttered. "What are we painting, anyways?" All they told me was that we were vandalizing the mayor's place.

Beacon finished his sketch. "'Fuck the Capitol'. Simple, but effective. We'll make the President piss herself. They'll all want us dead." He snorted. "Tick, start with the black here." He gestured. "Not too hard, maybe you can do it."

I ignored his snide comments. I was used to them poking fun at me and I didn't really care, as long as I was part of one of the most infamous gangs of District Three. If Ambi herself invited you, you just couldn't say no.

"I don't even care about the Games." Ambi said. "I just want to knock the Capitol off their high horse."

It would probably take more than a group of rebellious teenagers to do that but I went along with it. I sprayed the dark paint over Beacon's sketch, making sure to be precise. He was a control freak and would flip out on me if I didn't paint it exactly right.

She pulled out her phone and sighed. "Potato will be here in a few. He's taking the bus." Potato was an odd name, but in his defense, I knew his parents and they were weirdos. Around the time he was born, they were using potatoes for electricity.

I finished and stepped back to look at my work. Beacon raised an eyebrow. "Not bad, Tick."

I wasn't sure why all four of us would be meeting here, after all, this was a quick job we already completed. But it wasn't my place to question Ambi. Someone like me, just an average socially awkward outcast, was lucky to know her.

My heart stopped for a second when someone came around the corner but it was just Potato. "Ambi, Beacon, Tick." He put his hands in his pockets and nodded at them.

"Hey, Potato." I smiled at him. He was by far the most bearable member of the gang. Ambi and Beacon were too busy with their phones to give him anything but a nod back.

"Fuck the Capitol, that's super edgy."

"Exactly, it'll grab their attention." Ambi snapped. "We know how hard that is on Reaping day. We know what we're doing."

Potato gave me a knowing, exasperated look. Their self confidence was more irritating than anything else, even though it was what made them popular.

But we were all just kids. We never knew what we were doing.

* * *

 **Archibald Pell, District Three Male (Age 13)**

"So, Pell, are you looking forward to the Reapings?"

"No." I said bluntly, stroking the fur of one of the bunnies. It was soft and cute, shame it might die later from some weird DNA test or something.

My dad's job was to take care of the lab rats and other animals at one of Three's big science facilities. Sometimes I would pet them for something to do, or when he wasn't looking. Right now he was on his computer and unconcerned with anything else. All he did was ask me the occasional random question.

Usually I preferred to stay home since it was calmer, but the lab had bunnies and home didn't.

The bunny I was holding, who I named Mel (it rhymes with Pell), sniffed my fingers and twitched her ears. Her fur was fluffy and gray. She was snuggled up in my arms and looked very cozy.

Someone knocked on the door, and my dad promptly yelled, "Come in."

My best friend Sylvester pulled the door open and stumbled in the room. "Hi Mr. Pell and Pell!"

Dad's eyebrows raised. "How did you get in here?"

"Easy!" He grinned. "I picked the lock at the front, hacked into the security software, and got it to just ignore me. And now, here I am." Sure he did.

Dad scoffed at him. It was mostly sarcastic. "One day you're going to get in a lot of trouble, young man." He continued his work.

Sylvester laughed and sat down next to me, letting another rabbit sit on his lap. "Your dad is crazy."

"So are you." I resisted a smile. Sylvester was great. When I was around him I felt like the world was colorful. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"At least I don't use cliches." He stroked the bunny in his lap.

I couldn't think of a comeback so I decided to change the subject.

"Are you worried about the Reapings?" A simple question that called for a complex answer.

Sylvester thought about it for a minute. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"I hope I don't get Reaped because then I'll never be able to live a full life. You can't do a whole lot at thirteen." True, but I'd much rather live a comfortable life than a thrilling one. That was our main difference.

He continued, "I don't want it to happen, but am I _worried_ about it? No, it's very improbable either of us would be Reaped, but our very nature tends to ignore that."

Saying things well was just a special skill of his.

"Hm." I thought for a moment. He was right, humans were practically coded to worry about stuff.

"That security software must not be that complicated if you figured it out."

Sylvester laughed. "I was just trying to sound smart." He lowered his voice. "The door was unlocked and the lady at the front desk recognized me and let me through."

"Oh my God, you're so _pretentious_." I rolled my eyes jokingly.

"'People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones'." He mimicked me, and if I could I'd throw a stone at him but all there was within arm's reach was Mel the bunny.

We continued talking for a little while longer. It mostly consisted of jokes and fake-fighting (mostly from him). I liked it.

"Alright, I've gotta head home and take Pell with me. The Reapings are in an hour." My dad stood up and pulled open the door. "Nice seeing you, Sylvester."

I wished him goodbye and my dad and I went back home. It would've been a typical day.

I was afraid of the Reapings, which presented me with a choice. I could worry about something that wouldn't happen or do other things with my time.

So I chose the latter.

* * *

 **Alatic "Tick" Brown, District Three Female (Age 17)**

I toyed with a copper wire in my hands, wrapping it around my finger repeatedly and then undoing it. Something small to focus on, and something I could actually control.

I was wearing a simple, oversized black t-shirt that went nearly down to my knees. My mom made me change into something clean, and I was too ugly to wear a dress. She was always a little too concerned with me and a little too proud of whatever I did, even though there wasn't a whole lot to be proud of. As soon as I got out of school, it wouldn't matter. I'd go on and become a computer scientist and put my teenage antics behind me.

A group of Peacekeepers were muttering amongst themselves and it made my stomach churn. They were right in front of the mayor's house. Right where we vandalized it.

The Peacekeepers knew of our gang and weren't _too_ concerned about it before, but this was the first thing we'd done that could be considered treason. Oh my God, I was such an _idiot_ for doing it, what if they got my fingerprints? I should've thought about it beforehand.

Now I had two things to worry about. The square of District Three was much cleaner and modern-looking than most of the others. The town hall and other important buildings were all marble or iron.

District Three only had one Victor, Electra from the fourth Games. She won by hiding wires and other traps all around the arena, and was so good at it everyone else just died off. It was, however, considered a boring year. Not enough blood and gore.

She was sitting in between our escort, Penny, and the mayor. He was a chubby old man who was in charge of District Three since Panem's formation. During the war, apparently he was important in the Capitol military and nuclear force. So in other words, he was a piece of shit.

Penny's hair was dyed bright green and she wore a skin-tight gold dress. With her round eyes, she resembled an exotic bug, especially as she stiffly stood up and spoke into the microphone.

"Welcome everybody!" Her voice rang. "Welcome to the District Three Reapings!"

The crowd applauded. Most of us were squinting in the sun.

"After the rebellion, the Capitol decreed that every year, each District would send a young man and woman to fight to the death until one Victor stood. Today, we're here to select our two tributes to represent District Three in the 20th Annual Hunger Games. I am honored to be your escort."

At least she didn't go on and on and on.

"Time to select our lady!" She fluffed her hair up and her heels clicked as she walked to the first bowl. I kept wrapping the wire around my finger and undoing it. It cleared my mind.

Penny put her hand in the bowl, shuffled the papers around, and selected one. Holding the slip high, she announced,

"Alatic Brown!"

I felt like the air was knocked out of my lungs and let out a gasp.

Oh no. Oh no. I was gonna die and embarrass myself and what would happen to my family and Potato?

I clenched my fists and put my chin up even though my head was a mess. I felt a pressure from the eyes of the entire District on me, so I guess my only choice was to fight it. I walked stiffly to the front and didn't return Penny's cheerful smile.

"Hi, Alatic!"

I just frowned at her. A part of me felt bad since being kind was my true nature, but I couldn't afford to be kind now. I couldn't afford to do anything besides what I needed to do to live now.

* * *

 **Archibald Pell, District Three Male (Age 13)**

At least I wasn't the only person in Three with an unfortunate first name. Alatic. Was it supposed to be a pun of 'electric'? Whatever it was, it sounded ugly.

She looked angry, and if I was Reaped I'd be angry too. But I didn't detect any fear on her face. She just seemed to be the type of angry you would get when someone stole something important to you.

Penny smiled. Escorts smiled too much, especially the ones with the most distorted faces. "Now, to select the boy." She sashayed to the second bowl and chose a paper. I wouldn't be picked, it wasn't reasonable. I had no tesserae and next to no chance. My breathing was steady as I bounced on the balls of my feet.

"Archibald Pell!"

I immediately felt a wave of fear, and like my throat was closed off. It felt weird hearing my full name. I was picked out of everybody. Any teenager in the District could've been chosen, but it was little old me.

The irrational was real now. Human nature was right all along.

Well, that was it, I guess. I wouldn't get a life, I would never grow up. What chance did a scrawny thirteen-year-old have?

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

He was blurry, but Sylvester looked bewildered and heartbroken.

Two Peacekeepers grabbed my arms, since I was too zoned out to walk to the stage myself. Their grips were tight. They thrust me up the stairs. I stumbled and fell over, hitting my knee on the marble. My face was hot in front of the entire bloody District. And all of Panem too.

I awkwardly scurried up to the podium and gave the square a weak, forced smile. My heart was pounding.

"Hello, Archibald, do you want to say anything to Panem?" She held the microphone to my face.

"H-hi," I squeaked. "Can you call me Pell?" My throat burned.

Penny looked at me like I was a wounded puppy, when really I was just a puppy who knew it was going to die. "Of course."

"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes, Alatic Brown and Pell!"

Alatic simply scowled at me instead of shaking my hand. The rest of my life would be very strange if I was with her.

* * *

 **AN: Hey! Thank you so much for reading! (and happy eclipse day :D) As of now, we're officially halfway through the Reapings! Thank goodness tbh, I love getting to know the characters but writing the same event twelve times gets kinda repetitive. Also, this SYOT is officially closed! Thank you to everyone who's read and/or submitted, and special thanks to Elim9 and Dreaming of Starry Skies for submitting Pell and Tick! Here are the questions:**

 **1\. Opinions of these two?**

 **2\. How long do you think they'll live?**

 **3\. Since we've seen six out of twelve Reapings, that means there's a 50/50 chance we've been introduced to this year's Victor. Do you think there are any potential winners out of everyone we've met? Or will they be seen later?**

 _ **Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!**_


	8. district two

**Mars Ryker, District Two Male (Age 18)**

I tugged at my shirt, my heart pounding. Come on, I just needed to get this over with.

The training academy's graduating class was seated around the tiny room, boys and girls separated into two round tables. Most of the girls were talking amongst themselves but we were silent. Tensions were high, since after all, this was literally what we'd trained our whole lives for.

For many of us, it wasn't by choice. When I was six, I wanted to go into the Games and be a hero before I even understood the concept of death. I wasn't the brightest kid, so by the time I learned what I was actually training to do, there was no backing out. Besides, going to train every day made my parents beyond proud and that was a good feeling.

I thought about my odds of being selected. Ten boys and ten girls were in the running 'til the end, two of whom would go into the arena. The others usually became Peacekeepers. We started out with hundreds, but every year a few were cut until it was just us left

Gladius Lye, the head trainer and the Victor of the very first Games, entered the room, giving us a nasty look. It was just the way he was and he used to terrify me when I was little but not anymore.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were curled in a sneer, and although he was silent, his mere presence brought every eighteen-year-old in the room to his attention, which was quite a feat.

"So you all have made it, huh?" He snickered, making eye contact with each one of us. His eyes pierced into mine and I felt a twang of that old fear in my heart, but I forced it down. It was stupid and irrational.

"Could've been anyone in the District and they chose you? How disappointing." His voice was slow and oily, and even though he was only thirty-eight he seemed too creepy to be that young.

"But regardless. I have a guest here to help me announce who will represent our District in this year's Hunger Games. Last year she rose above you mediocre dunces and came home victorious, accomplishing more than you probably will. Here is Rhea Storme."

I knew her, sort of. We sparred against each other while she was still training and she usually won.

Rhea opened the door and stood next to Gladius. Her gaze was softer and I sensed a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Hello." Her voice was eerily calm. "So it's down to you twenty. I expect you have all trained impossibly hard and pushed yourself to your limits, and you all probably are worthy of going into the Hunger Games. However, only two may receive that honor. The Games are brutal and it isn't easy to make it out alive, but I believe two of you, the two we've chosen, have a great chance of becoming a Victor. Greater than the others. Fight until the end and don't let us down. Don't make a fool of Panem's strongest District."

The announcement was Reaping-style, and even though my parents would be disappointed I was glad to be done with all this Hunger Games stuff. The training will have been useful, and I wouldn't have to die or kill anyone innocent. I wasn't brave, I wasn't Victor material, it wouldn't be me.

"Indeed, Rhea." Winning the Games was likely the only way to earn Gladius' respect, as he looked at her like an actual person. "Now. Which lady will be our first tribute?"

Some of the girls were shaking, while others looked at him head-on, unafraid.

Rhea pulled an envelope out of her bag, opened it, and pulled a paper out, then handed it to Gladius.

"The girl who will represent District Two in the 20th Annual Hunger Games is…" He unfolded the paper and read, "Jade Halite!"

"Yes!" Jade pumped her fist and her friends clapped her on the back. The other girls were either fuming, stoic, or on the verge of tears.

"Congrats, Jade." He rolled his eyes. Jade stood up, and shook his hand with a big grin plastered across her face, batting her green eyes. I always found her rude and irritating.

"Thank you!" She turned towards Rhea, whose mellow nature seemed to be replaced with mild annoyance, and pumped her hand up and down. Whichever guy was sent off was certainly in for a hell of a ride.

She stood by Rhea's side and sneered at the rest of us. I wasn't one to wish bad things on people but I hoped she wouldn't make it.

* * *

 **Jade Halite, District Two Female (Age 18)**

I wasn't surprised it was me. I had a sneaking suspicion I was always Gladius' favorite, and even if I wasn't I was still a better fighter than all the other girls. If I wasn't the tribute, it would be an outrage. The news outlets in Two would've thrown a fit.

I didn't see the nine girls I was competing against as anything but inferior. They were okay, I was Victor material. There wasn't a weapon I didn't excel at (besides maybe swords) and a skill I didn't master before I was ten. I couldn't imagine a single way I might die in the arena.

I was beaming at my friend Darla, who had jealousy written across her face like my name on the future Victor announcement. She was a nice girl, almost as good at me in training. But did she really expect to be chosen over me? I almost felt bad. Besides, Peacekeepers were paid well.

Rhea handed a second envelope over to Gladius, who opened it and dramatically unfolded the paper.

"Mars Ryker!"

Mars? That little crybaby? Surely there was some sort of mistake.

Quincy and Lance, the two toughest boys in the class, gave him a death glare. Mars' eyes widened in surprise but he toughened up and shook Gladius and Rhea's hands. He then stood in front of me, and I gripped his hand very tightly.

"These two are our final choices. No changes will be made, and if any of you attempt to sabotage them as they volunteer this afternoon, we will make sure you'll regret it." Rhea recited, looking at the two of us with… pity? Why? She got everything because she won. All my friends were doomed to a life of physical labor while I'd just sit on my big fat pile of money.

"You are dismissed."

Everyone immediately stood up and began to swarm Mars and I.

"Oh my God, Jade, you made it! I'm so happy for you!" Angelina, who probably slept with Gladius to stay in training, babbled.

"Jade, you're gonna win!"

"Congratulations!"

"Thanks!" I played up the sweetness because most of their families were loaded and could sponsor me. Not like I'd need it.

I eventually slipped out of the room and met Darla outside. She was checking her manicured nails.

"Oh, good job." She wasn't very enthusiastic. At all. Come on, was she really that surprised?

"You're finally gonna avenge Luke." She didn't look at me. "Yay."

"Considering an actual Victor thought I was cut out to win, I'd say I have a pretty good chance." I replied smoothly, putting my hands on my hips. What a little bitch, I bet she only liked me because she was so far up her own ass she thought I wasn't a threat.

My brother Luke trained just like I did and snagged the spot in the 14th Games, but the Twelve girl snuck up on him in the night. He was the predicted winner but he placed fifth.

Darla walked off, visibly fuming. She couldn't answer because I was right. What a weakling. No wonder I was chosen.

* * *

 **Mars Ryker, District Two Male (Age 18)**

Two was one of the most southern Districts in Panem, located in a hot, dry area that used to be known as New Mexico. So in the summer, of course it was boiling and disgusting outside.

I was in a simple white shirt with gray shorts. It was airy to prevent the heat from getting to me, but still, my face felt pink and was covered in sweat.

Quincy and Lance were standing oddly close to me, close enough to make it difficult to get past them but not too close that Gladius would lose his shit. The two of them hadn't cared about me before I beat them, but now if they could they'd kill me. I still couldn't believe my stupid six-year-old dream took me to the fucking Hunger Games. I wish I could've gotten out of it. I was gonna die now and there was nothing I could do. If I didn't volunteer, the entire District would laugh at me and that humiliation would hit deeper than any knife.

Our escort, Lush, stood up and announced, "Good afternoon, District Two!" The audience cheered and I was frightened like a fool.

"Welcome, welcome! Today we are gathered to choose our two tributes to represent our District in the 20th Annual Hunger Games! This is history being made, ladies and gentlemen."

He took a few moments to gaze at the square. I tapped my foot. Why couldn't he hurry? It was hot as Hell and I was anxious.

"Let's shake things up and start with the boy." Shit, I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready. They're supposed to choose the girl first, why did it have to be changed now?

My District chose me, I had to stop acting like a child.

Lush chose a paper without hesitation and yelled, "Orion Jasper!"

"I volunteer!" I raised my hand and gave Quincy and Lance a snarky look, pushing my way past them and the other boys to the podium.

"A volunteer!" Lush exclaimed, an expression of mock surprise on his face. I forced a smile and tried to seem happy with my lot, and not scared out of my mind. It was official now.

I did what they said, and now there was no going back.

* * *

 **Jade Halite, District Two Female (Age 18)**

I had the tea on this one. I knew what I was up against. He was no threat, he was a big softie who looked tough but I'd bet he wouldn't hurt a fly. When we were nine he cried almost every day in training and the only reason he wasn't kicked out was that he understood weapons quicker than most of the others.

Still, he sort of seemed like a good guy so I wouldn't actively try to sabotage him. I'd leave that to some basic bitch from One or Four. He wasn't worth my time.

I was wearing a tight blue dress and dark heels, since I wouldn't need to worry about fighting my way up to the podium. Every year there were a dozen One kids trying to make it to the stage and the fastest one made it, regardless of who was selected.

We, on the other hand, had honor, class and a civilized way of going about things. And the ones who weren't picked acted like bloody adults about it. The spoiled luxury brats always whined like babies. Since their childhood they always got everything handed to them on a silver platter. We had to fight for what we got.

Lush placed his hand on Mars' shoulder. He seemed uncomfortable. "Hello Mars, so do tell me, why did you decide to volunteer?" Oh come on, everyone knew it was because we all trained. The escorts were just paid to ask the same stupid questions to each year's volunteers.

He took a deep breath. "I want to honor my District and make them proud." Nice! That totally wasn't a carbon copy of what literally every Career said! Yeah, we were gonna kill people, but at least I didn't pretend I was some sort of hero!

"Good for you, boy. I wish you the best of luck." Lush smiled. "Let us pick the young lady."

I felt very light and euphoric. Finally, after all these years, my time to shine.

Lush unfolded a slip from the top of the bowl and called, "Nadia Anvil!"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I shouted, my heels clicking as I walked towards the stage. I grinned and waved at the people I passed, winking at a few of the boys.

Lush was thrilled to have two volunteers, even though that happened every goddamn time. "Lovely to see a volunteer, ma'am, what is your name?"

"Jade Halite. You'll know me as Two's second Victor in a row." I played up the confidence, even though I already had plenty. For good reason.

"We've got a fighter here, folks!" He chuckled. "Now, shake hands."

I turned towards Mars. It was ridiculous how I was in the same competition as this big, blundering idiot but whatever.

For the second time today, I shook his hand and glared, just to get the message across: nobody would get in my way.

* * *

 **AN: Did any of you guys get the My Immortal reference? No? I'll give you a hint: Gladius said it. Sorry it's been a few days, school started and I've been busy. Fun fact: this is the first chapter where I started with the guy's POV, just because it fit the story better. And also, I received a lot of sarcastic, manipulative tributes (especially girls) so I'm going to dial that down for some of them and let their other traits shine more. Just for variety. Thanks for submitting these two and reading! Questions:**

 **What do you think of Mars and Jade?**

 **How long do you think they'll survive?**

 **I sound like a bloody YouTuber but don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!**


	9. district six

**Natara Dotia, District Six Female (Age 16)**

I ignored the visions, just for this morning. You'd think by now I'd learn to live with the blood on the walls, but it still frightened me as much as being told nobody else saw it frightened me. It seemed so real and like I could touch it. At least now I could resist the temptation to scream and run away.

I sat at the kitchen table. My sister, Twyla, and her boyfriend Daniel gathered the whole family together for an announcement. I wasn't sure why they chose Reaping morning but I didn't question it. Twyla always had her reasons. If it were _almost_ anyone else I'd be annoyed.

My mom munched on a biscuit, and she smiled at me once she saw me looking across the table at her. "Good morning dear, do you want some breakfast?"

"No thank you." I replied. I didn't have much of an appetite. I saw an unusual amount of blood this morning.

My dad sat next to her and stared at her like he'd never seen anyone like her before. Love was gross but they were heartwarming together.

Daniel and Twyla came down the stairs, their faces beaming. It must be good news. The blood faded as they came closer.

"Hi Mom, Dad, Natara." Twyla grinned ear to ear. "We have something important to tell you."

"We're engaged!" She lifted her hand up and showed us the simple silver band on her finger. Daniel, blushing, kissed her on the cheek.

"Aw, congratulations!" I smiled at the two of them. My sister would be married. I mean, she dated Daniel for three years, but it still was a pleasant surprise for me. She was happy.

My mom's eyes immediately began to well with tears. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe-" She stood up and wrapped her arms around Twyla, then Daniel. "I love you so much."

I wasn't sentimental but it was sweet.

My dad hugged my sister and nodded at Daniel. "Congrats."

Twyla was glowing. "Thank you so much, I'm so excited." She reached over and hugged me, and I was so happy for her I almost forgot it was Reaping day.

* * *

 **Kied Zola, District Six Male (Age 16)**

"So how many times are your names in?" Rena lied flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I have five. We didn't need to take any tesserae."

"Ten." Julian responded, sitting on the couch next to me and rummaging around in his pocket. "I don't give a fuck, and it wouldn't hurt to get some extra food. It's dumb how so many people don't take it because they're scared of raising their odds. Everyone _still_ has a next-to-zero chance."

"It is actually rational." Eri replied. "And is that weed you're holding?"

"Shut up." He muttered, shoving the green stuff back in his pocket. "Please, there are thousands of kids who could get picked. It's like skipping one meal then worrying about starving."

"It's not, dumbass." Rena sighed, rolling over and sitting up.

They got so riled up so quickly.

"Calm down guys, we'll all be fine." I looked over at Rena, who scoffed at me.

"Classic Kied."

I shrugged. "Just trying to help." Even though they were my friends and they show me they're good people often, sometimes they got on my nerves a little. I usually ignored it for the sake of avoiding an argument.

Eri tapped his fingers on the armrest. "Not gonna listen to the girl who slept with every guy in our grade. Even Julian."

Oh boy.

The two of them immediately snapped back.

"Ok, first of all, fuck you-" Rena adjusted her beanie.

"THAT WAS TWICE." Julian scowled.

"I can do whatever the Hell I want, and even though it was a joke, it was a shitty one, try harder next time, you virgin." She kicked Eri in the shin and he winced.

"Damn, Rena." He grabbed his leg. "That _really_ hurt."

She grinned. "Good."

I checked the clock. It was eleven thirty, which meant the Reapings were in half an hour. I loved my friends, but I was too tired and nervous to deal with their play-arguments. I was glad it was time to leave soon.

"Hey, I'm gonna run over to the Reapings. Better early than late." I nodded at them. "See you!"

"Alright, bye." Rena pat my shoulder. "Sorry we're wearing you out."

We said our brief goodbyes and I hurried to the square. Come on, come on, I just wanted to move past it. Get it over with. Go back to being relaxed.

But another Reaping was here, and I'd have to worry about it.

* * *

 **Natara Dotia, District Six Female (Age 16)**

The escort, Valeria, had bright violet skin. Capitol fashion was weird. I might have been hallucinating it, but her eyes appeared to shine far, far brighter than they would naturally.

Ronnie Flax, District Six's only Victor, sat next to her. He was in his early twenties and won one of the weirdest years of all nineteen. The Capitol took random parts of an old, abandoned Six factory for the arena, and Ronnie worked nearby. He figured out what was going on and prepared accordingly in case he got Reaped.

Of course, the Capitol didn't know _why_ he won, but almost everyone in our District did.

I sometimes saw him around, always surrounded by Peacekeepers. He was usually quiet and sullen, but nice enough. He didn't have glowing eyes or weird limbs or a bloody mouth like most strangers. He wouldn't be a bad mentor.

Six was in that nice spot between frigid and boiling. The summers were pleasant and warm, the winters chilly. Near the factories, it was too smoggy to enjoy the weather, but square was far away from anything unclean. I lived in the middle.

I wore a simple black and gray dress. Not ugly, but not noticeable. Just right.

"I'm pretty sure her eyes are glowing, like a demon or something." I said to my best friend, Bethany, looking at Valeria. My voice was flat.

"You're so funny, Natara." She laughed, looking around the crowd. "You make the Reapings a little more bearable."

She was sweet but never took me seriously. I tried to change the subject.

"Did you know Twyla's getting married? It's gonna be this fall."

"Oh my God!" She turned back towards me, her eyes wide. "That's amazing! I'm so happy for her! Does she have a dress? Am I invited? Are you gonna be a bridesmaid?"

Bethany was also bubbly.

"I don't know, and she'll probably invite you and your parents, and I don't know. I might get a vision in the middle of the ceremony and cause a fuss."

"You'll be fine!" She reassured me. I liked her. She was nice.

All of a sudden, the square went quiet. Valeria stood in front of the mic, clearing her throat. Here we go.

"Hello everybody!" She squealed. "Welcome!"

"We're gathered in this lovely square today for the Reapings of the 20th Annual Hunger Games. We will select two lucky young adults to represent District Six in the Games, and hopefully one will return as a Victor."

"Now, two decades ago, the rebels were finally defeated after years of trying to destroy Panem and its peace. As an appropriate punishment, the Capitol decided each year, each District would send a teenage boy and a teenage girl to fight to the death in a pageant known as the Hunger Games. Only one survivor would emerge, representing the hope of Panem's new beginning."

Valeria chirps, "How exciting. Let's begin!"

She sashayed towards the girls' bowl. I didn't take any tesserae but my heart was racing. There still was a tiny chance I would be sent away.

Valeria carefully chose a slip of paper and unfolded it with grace. I held my breath. She cleared her throat.

"Natara Dotia!"

Oh no.

What the Hell? Why me? What the fuck? I had no chance!

I wouldn't ever see my sister married, my family would sell my dining room chair for extra money. Today might as well be the end of my life.

* * *

 **Kied Zola, District Six Male (Age 16)**

Natara Dotia. I recognized the name vaguely, maybe I knew her when I was little and she moved away? I didn't recognize her face.

She darted up to the podium. Although she was still technically walking, it was fast. She seemed angry and glared at everyone in sight. She was skinny and on the shorter side, but something about her was off. Unsettling. It could've been her sheer anger.

Eri's lips were curled down slightly in an expression of sadness. "Aw, I feel bad for her. She looks frail." She did, and seeing a tribute in person made it hit me that the Capitol was slaughtering actual kids. It wasn't right but it wasn't going to change anytime soon.

Valeria pursed her lips. "Natara Dotia." Her voice was sour.

Natara didn't say a thing and simply stared at her. After a few seconds it became one of the most evil-looking death glares I'd ever seen. Her eyes were almost on fire.

Valeria shook her head. "Anyway. Now to select the boy." She sashayed over to the second bowl and stuck her hand in.

The entire square seemed to hold their breath, myself included, as she took her sweet time unfolding the slip she chose. Blood rushed in my ears.

"Kied Zola!"

My lungs began to shrivel. Oh my God, how? _I'm_ the tribute?

I took in a deep breath and stood tall, even though it felt more like I was held up by a puppeteer's strings.

My hands shook and I let out a nervous laugh. Everyone looked at me and usually I loved attention but not like this.

I walked up, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. I smiled at one kid. I didn't know who, my mind clouded my vision.

I found myself at the podium, still trembling. Well, here I was. I better go with it now.

"Hello, Keid." Her voice was smooth. "So how are you feeling?"

"Good." I grinned. My cheeks were beginning to ache. "I mean, it all went according to plan. It's good."

"A plan? Would you like to tell us this plan?" Valeria raised one of her heavily-penciled eyebrows.

I felt ready to panic but I hid it well. "Nah, you'll figure it out later." I smirked.

"Ooh, you're secretive, I like that!" She looked like she was holding back a sigh of relief, while I felt the exact opposite. I felt like I was going to throw up, and I was a pretty darn chill guy. "I'll be rooting for you… Kied?"

"Yes." I gave her a charming smile, even though she forgot my name less than a minute after I was Reaped. "Thank you, District Six, for letting me represent you. I'll do you proud." What _was_ this bullshit? I was gonna die, I wouldn't embarrass everyone but it wasn't like I would win.

"I'm sure you will. Now shake hands with Natara."

Natara looked at me like a weirdo. It wasn't mean, there was just a lot of confusion in her eyes.

I extended my hand. She hesitated for a moment, then shook it with a firm grip. I had to restrain myself from wincing. My hand was red when I pulled it back, and she probably would have crushed my bones if she held on for a while longer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes, Kied Zola and Natara Dotia!"

* * *

 **AN: Sorry I took a little while to update. These were two good and fun characters, so thank you to the submitters for letting me write them! I'm getting more and more excited to write the Capitol chapters and their interactions and eventually, the Games. We're also two thirds done with the Reapings! Thank you so much for reading and please leave a review! I've read some of my submitters' stories and holy heck, so many of you guys are super talented! Always feel free to give me some advice.**

 **1\. What did you think of Natara and Kied?**

 **2\. How long do you expect them to last?**


	10. district eleven

**Juffy Simsville, District Eleven Female (Age 14)**

Every Reaping day, my sisters and I go out to the fields and pick daisies. It's become a little tradition ever since I turned twelve.

We always get the morning before the big event off of work (doing laundry for the richer folk, which is _far_ better than working in the farms) and we need something calm to do. It's good the flowers bloom near Reaping time.

I placed the basket on the grass and looked around. The field almost appeared to shimmer green in the morning sun and daisies were scattered amongst the weeds. The sky glowed vivid blue without a cloud in sight.

It was a perfect day, or at least, it would be if it wasn't considered the darkest, most unlucky time of year.

"It's so pretty." Flax muttered, her delicate eyelids fluttering as she grabbed onto my arm. She was sleepy but I was sure she'd wake up soon.

Weather skipped over to the other side, where the biggest daisies grew, and knelt in the grass. I caught a glimpse of a sweet smile on her face and my heart was warm.

I sat down. The walk from my house to here was long. The earth felt soft and the grass wasn't even itchy. One pretty little daisy sprout grew right by my legs and I picked it up.

I made my way across the field, plucking daisies off the ground one by one as the comforting sun rose. I gathered more in my hands and admired their simple beauty, and it blocked out the chaos of the rest of the world.

Weather and Flax created a collection of pins, but I preferred chains. You could use them as necklaces, bracelets, anything really. Your imagination was the limit and I liked to feel free.

I tied two of the stalks together and continued down the line, finding the toughest-looking daisies so it wouldn't fall apart. Choose a flower, tie it to the last one, and repeat until it was long enough.

I finished my chain and tied it around my neck. It went beautifully with my plain old dress. There.

Over the years I've found in hard times, it works to appreciate whatever you can, even daisy chains or blue skies.

Half an hour later, our arms and basket filled with flowers, we went home to get ready for the Reapings.

* * *

 **Vissarion Montay, District Eleven Male (Age 17)**

I stood with Olivia by the door. Another year passed already, and it was time for the Reapings again.

Two of them were Reaped in the past and died quickly. It hurt terribly watching them go, and my parents' will was the only thing that kept me from volunteering.

They need my help, and it was better in the long run if I stayed.

All one hundred and nineteen orphans were sitting in the main room. And since each one over twelve was required to take the maximum amount of tesserae, they had every reason to worry.

We didn't want to put them in danger, but we weren't well off. Our choice was either raise the chance of one getting Reaped or let them all starve.

"You ready?" I asked Olivia. She nodded. She understood this was a difficult time for me and she really was a nice girl. It was a shame I couldn't hang out with her without one of the orphans accusing us of dating.

I pulled the door open and stepped into the room, letting over two hundred eyes focus on the two of us.

"Hello, everybody." I waved.

"Hi, guys." Olivia grinned.

"Hello." They chorused. The quiet ones nodded or smiled in greeting from their various tables. I caught a glimpse of Charlie. His face was unnaturally pale. My heart sunk.

Charlie was just a shy kid, but something about him struck me as special. He seemed to like me too and talked to me whenever he could. He was so young and innocent but he turned twelve earlier this year, so he had a chance of being Reaped.

"So today is Reaping day, so we're gonna lead you down to the square." Olivia said anxiously, well aware this upset them. "Don't worry though, there are thousands of other kids who can get picked and there are only a few dozen of you." She reassured.

True, but the odds were never in our favor and it was a sad, sad truth.

Usually they were laughing and bickering but they were so quiet now. The District tended to fall quiet around these times.

* * *

 **Juffy Simsville, District Eleven Female (Age 14)**

As one of the poorest Districts, Eleven got either the new escorts or the ones who simply weren't good. That meant we switched almost every year, and indeed, a Capitol lady I didn't recognize sat next to the mayor.

Her hair was curly and green, her skin pale, and she wore dramatic red makeup. Her entire outfit was black and skin-tight. She was pretty, I guess, but not natural. Pretty like a doll, not pretty like a flower.

The mayor was an average guy. He looked normal and apparently grew up as a humble farmer kid, but worked hard enough to get to the top. It was admirable, but for most people unrealistic. Which struck me as kinda sad.

Cherry and Rye, Eleven's two Victors, sat right by the mayor. They both won early, before the Careers from One, Two, and Four took over and killed anyone they deemed a threat.

When I was bored and off from work I'd watch their old interviews. Never the Games, though. Too violent.

From what I'd put together, Rye was considered an underdog, but once in the arena his odds immediately rose. He was merciless and nobody got in his way, even the kids with a few years of training under their belt.

Cherry was small, only around five feet, yet she made up for it with intelligence and speed. Her arena was a forest full of poisonous berries but she knew which were safe, and she knew how to stay under the radar.

Nobody was too thrilled about her year since most of the deaths were fruit-induced, but her persona satisfied the Capitol citizens.

She was charming and I could tell she knew how to get them on their feet.

We haven't gained a Victor in over a decade. Most of our tributes are terrified orphans. It's heartbreaking.

But the Capitol only really cares about us when we're dressed up, killing each other, or dying.

"Welcome everyone!" I snapped out of it. The green haired escort stood on the podium.

"Welcome to District Eleven's Reapings!" She paused, expecting applause, but received none.

"I am your new escort, Lydia. The Twentieth Annual Hunger Games are only a bit over a week from now, and today a lucky boy and a lucky girl will be sent to the Capitol for an opportunity to represent their District and win!"

Her voice was shaky despite her wide smile. Her sentences were awkward. Maybe she'd get better next year?

"Let us start with our girl." She looked over towards my section and no hint of pity was evident on her face.

Lydia strode to the girls' bowl and I tugged at my dress.

My hair was flowing in the wind and I did my best to focus on that, anything, focus on anything. It would be over soon and I'd be safe.

Everything would go back to normal until next year and that'll repeat until I'm nineteen.

She carefully eyed the bowl and chose a plain old regular slip with a name written on it.

Alright, here we go.

She cleared her throat and announced, "Juffy Simsville!"

I froze. No no no. It was me out of everyone? This was impossible. Something went terribly wrong. I couldn't believe this. I was gonna die, and it wasn't fair. I didn't deserve to die.

Weather and Flax and my parents. They'd miss me, this would hurt them so much. _Why me?_

I put my chin up and walked to the podium. If I was gonna die, I would die a fighter, not a meek little child.

My lungs burnt with panic and my eyes welled with tears. I couldn't believe this.

I gave her a shy smile even though the butterflies in my stomach went wild. "Yes, that would be me." I wanted to wince at my voice, which was more high-pitched and squeaky than usual.

"Very well! You look lovely, darling."

"Thank you." How could I say anything but that?

If I go and I die, at least I won't be weak, right? Or maybe I will be weak but somehow trick the Capitol into thinking I'm not. I'd figure it out. I hoped. Or else I would die and my entire existence would be gone, oh God...

My daisy necklace fell to the ground and I didn't want to draw attention to myself by picking it up.

* * *

 **Vissarion Montay, District Eleven Male (Age 17)**

At least it wasn't one of my kids, but she was young. A tear streamed down her cheek. We were all too young. She was… what? Thirteen? Fourteen? She was a goddamn kid and I was used to it but the Games always made my blood boil.

I wished the new escort would hurry up. I wished we could all get this over with and the kids could relax again. Maybe this year fate would smile on us and it wouldn't be an orphan. It would hurt us all so much.

"Now it's the boys' turn!"

I couldn't see Charlie and I couldn't see the other orphanage boys but I prayed it wouldn't be one of them. They were already stuck with bad lives, they didn't need the bloody Hunger Games killing them.

"Vissarion Montay!"

 _Oh no._ That was my name. Me. My parents needed me. I had a purpose, it _couldn't_ be me. I didn't _want_ to die.

Well, at least it wasn't an orphan.

At least one of them didn't have to go, and I finally got my wish of sparing one.

And maybe now I'd truly do them proud.

I walked to the podium with Lydia and Juffy, not smiling, but not looking mean. I didn't want to scare anyone, I just wanted to help anyone I could.

"Vissarion Montay! You're tough looking, aren't you?" She beamed.

Oh no, not tough. My expression remained neutral and I stayed quiet.

"Now, cheer up! You're the luckiest boy in the District!"

Define lucky.

And did I look sad? It was probably just how my face looked, people told me fairly often.

She held the microphone towards my face, expecting me to say something but I didn't, mainly out of fear. Sure, I talked in front of the orphans a lot but they all knew me, it wasn't nearly as bad as all of Panem.

"We've got a quiet pair. Anyway." She trilled. "Your tributes, Juffy Simsville and Vissarion Montay!"

The crowd politely cheered and I shook hands with Juffy. I didn't want to die and I didn't want this kid or anyone else to die either. It was a lose-lose situation.

* * *

 **AN: ¾ through the Reapings, woo-hoo! I had tons of fun writing this chapter and with every single one I write the more excited I get for the rest of the story. Do any other writers know how to avoid passive voice? I read over my writing several times but I still miss some. Anyways, thank you all for reading! And all the reviews! They always make my day.**

 **Opinions of these two?**

 **How long do you expect them to last?**


	11. district four

**Delphine Monett, District Four Female (Age 17)**

The water chilled my skin, but it was better described as cleansing than freezing. I already swam past the waves that broke near the shore and I was around a hundred yards out.

The sun shone from halfway between the horizon and the top of the sky and reflected off the glassy, blue ocean.

Off in the distance I saw fishing boats, faded in the pale morning mist. They'd stay out for a little while longer then come back for the Reapings.

The whole District was going to attend and I was this year's chosen volunteer. It was natural to be nervous but I never saw myself as the type of person who _got_ nervous, so I came out here to relax.

Out here I didn't have to please anyone and I didn't have to avoid anyone. There was just me and probably some sharks.

Whenever I told anyone I loved to swim they were usually surprised. When I was eight and she was six, my little sister Beatrice was playing in the ocean when a riptide swept her away.

And just like that she was gone. Her story was told to warn kids not to swim too far out, but I didn't listen. I never listened.

It affected me differently. Beatrice was my best friend and I remembered the pure agony I felt when I lost her, so I vowed to never get truly close to anyone again.

Sure, I'd be nice to anyone who deserved it (or anyone who could help me) but it made me learn bonds were overrated.

I turned over and began to tread water. The salt made my skin smooth like a mermaid but made me feel hungry and dehydrated. I was ready to go home and bid my farewells.

I swam freestyle back to the coast and let a small wave carry me to the shore. I was one with the world and it was serene. Everything would be alright and whatever happened was meant to happen.

* * *

 **Warf Pollman, District Four Male (Age 16)**

I narrowed my eyes, focused on the target and got ready to throw my spear. This would make Opal beg for me. I smirked at the thought, thrust my arm forwards, and let the weapon fly.

The arrowhead embedded itself into the center of the bullseye.

I turned around. I expected to see Opal with her jaw dropped, desperate to hook up with me.

She was still sword-fighting with a trainer. She didn't even look my way.

Dammit.

I'd been with a ton of other girls before, but Opal was the real deal. Five foot eight, a badass fighter, and hot as hell.

Practically everyone considered her one of the prettiest girls in the District, so if I got her, my brothers would finally know I was much better with the ladies than they could dream of being.

They were all eighteen and nineteen (my dad got around) and thought they were so much cooler. I'd show them.

Besides, I was way hotter than any of them. No homo but if I were gay I would totally fuck me.

And even if that wasn't enough, I was gonna volunteer today. Then I would win and kick ass and all the girls would forget my idiot brothers exist. The end.

I scowled and picked up another spear. This one was longer, with a razor-sharp point that could probably impale like, five people all lined up. I almost heard it calling my name.

I lifted it higher and called, "Opal!"

Maybe now the bitch would pay attention to me.

She told her trainer to pause and turned towards me, giving me a sick view of her cleavage.

"What do you want?"

Without saying a word, I smirked and tossed the weapon all the way across the room. The target was at least twelve yards away.

The point hit the bu- the edge?!

 _Fuck!_

I was so distracted I didn't even get the bullseye with a weapon I've been using since I was _six_! Just my goddamn luck. Now I was humiliated in front of the girl of my dreams.

Opal burst into laughter. "What the Hell, you made me stop my fight for _that_?"

Even her trainer let out a chuckle and I felt my face turn red. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! I was supposed to impress her!

Of course that was _the only time_ I've missed lately.

I forced a smile.

"That was just a shitty spear. And you know I'm hot, you don't have to play hard to get."

Her eyes lit up. "You're so funny!" Her voice was simpering and sarcastic and made my blood boil.

"Whatever, bitch." I muttered, balling my fists. Jesus Christ, she wasn't even worth a shot.

She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. "Win the Hunger Games, maybe then I'll put up with you."

My eyes lit up. "The Hunger Games?"

"You heard me." She turned around and apologized to her trainer.

My head whirred. Now I had two reasons to volunteer.

And when I won, Opal would be into me?

It was official. I would be the next Victor.

* * *

 **Delphine Monett, District Four Female (Age 17)**

I fidgeted in my uncomfortable shoes. They were tight and compressed my toes like a tiny net compresses a big fish and it hurt. I preferred to go barefoot by far.

Our escort, Rouvin Bacchus, already stood on stage. His skin was dyed seafoam green and his hair resembled a cloud- white and fluffy.

Four's three Victors sat by him. Every year, I was wonderstruck to see them in person.

Marvin claimed the crown of one of the first Games, I believe. He was brilliant with traps and knives, which gave him an advantage in an arena full of small, confused, inexperienced kids.

He earned a training score of eight, which was remarkable without training.

I've caught a few glimpses of him in the facility, usually guiding the scared eight-year-olds and easing their minds.

I was alive during Poseidon's Games but too young to remember. From the tapes I watched I knew he irked me.

He acted like a dumb prick during his interviews. Every good Career knows you have to at least pretend to be likable and smart. Sponsors _hate_ an idiot.

But it worked for him. You know, if my partner was like that I'd probably jump off the platform before the Games and blow myself up.

And of course, Mags. She won the eleventh Games. I watched her on TV when I was seven and knew I wanted to win. I wanted to be like her. I still do.

She only stood at 5'0", but made up for it with her deadly spear skills and perfect fishing. Her arena was a freshwater lake with only a few small islands scattered around.

Half a dozen tributes simply drowned. Another half dozen starved since there was no source of food besides the creatures in the water.

Luckily, Mags was a born fisher and outlived the rest. However, the Capitol considered her Victory anticlimactic. I found that outrageous, she was brilliant. Actual tributes only caused around three or four deaths that involved blood and I believe most gamblers thought she would place around eighth.

Still, she made it and I remember being so, so proud.

It was a sunny, warm day and the breeze ruffled my dress. The square was right by the ocean and, for the luxury of the rich citizens, had the prettiest view.

The ocean glimmered blue and the shore was the color of lemons and vanilla. Mansions surrounded by seagrass lined the coast.

The floor of the square was an elaborate mosaic of shells, marble, and seaglass, but it was near impossible to admire with the huge crowd. Reaping day marked the most crowded time of year by far, so if it wasn't for today I doubt there would even be a square. Or maybe it would be half the size.

"Hello, welcome! Welcome!" Rouvin flashed a smile and the District erupted in cheers. I bounced on the balls of my feet. Oh my God, this was _it._ It didn't feel that way but this was the day I'd prepared for since I was little. My skin tingled.

I tried to keep a cool demeanor. The other girls were watching me and judging me. I didn't really talk to them so they didn't really know me. I had to look good so they'd sponsor me.

"Today is the day of District Four's Reapings for the Twentieth Annual Hunger Games!" He announced, his voice booming throughout the square and echoing off the far walls. "And we will select two tributes to represent us."

The crowd, especially the older kids, went wild. I shook all over.

"Now, let's cut to the chase, shall we?" He smiled again. I didn't mind Rouvin as much as most Capitolites. He was efficient and not overly dramatic.

Or maybe he just decided to make it quick because the teenage boys tended to get a bit _too_ rowdy. Anyway!

"The girl representing District Four will be," He reached into the bowl, and chose a slip and unfolded it and I couldn't contain my energy any longer.

"Az-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I yelled. I shoved my way through the other girls and dashed to the podium even with my painful shoes.

It was official. I was going into the arena.

I realistically wouldn't win, but I had better odds than some randomly-selected girl. Besides, I'll spare her life just like I should've spared Beatrice's.

* * *

 **Warf Pollman, District Four Male (Age 16)**

Fuck, this chick was _hot_! Sure, she was no Opal, but _damn_ she made me glad to be a tribute!

Maybe she could hold me over until I won. Tributes had affairs all the time, it was nothing new. She'd take one look at me and go crazy.

"Amazing, a volunteer!" We all knew he was pretending to be shocked. Our last Reaped tribute was in like, the negative three hundredth Games.

"What is your name, darling?"

Her face was neutral but she was practically bouncing. She gripped the microphone and announced, "Delphine Monett."

Her voice was hot.

"Lovely. You look lovely." Rouvin grinned and she moved to his side. "Now, who will be our boy?"

He strode to the boys' bowl and I felt like I was glowing. It was my time to shine. I'd have to be ready to catch the bras girls threw at me.

"N-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I shouted and ran to the podium. I pumped my arms, giving everyone a view of my great muscles.

I took a deep breath and looked out at the audience. They seemed pretty pumped.

And Delphine was even hotter up close!

"Another volunteer! My, my, we have some determined young people, don't we?"

I smirked. "We sure do. My name is Warf Pollman. You can call me your next Victor." Classic thing to say, but it always snagged sponsors.

"Amazing! We'll bet on you." Rouvin nodded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you District Four's two tributes: Warf Pollman and Delphine Monett!"

She smiled at the crowd but gave me a blink-and-you'll-miss-it glare. Why? Evil bitch.

Still, I winked at her. She grabbed my hand and shook it. Of course, the crowd cheered loud enough to be heard from space.

As soon as Rouvin looked away she whispered, "You're not going to last a minute."

My heart rate went up and I felt my blood rushing. Dammit, why did hot girls never take me seriously?

You know what? Fuck her.

She won't be so pretty when she's bloody and tired and half-dead in the arena.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading! I died inside writing Warf! (It was actually kinda fun?) Take a shot every time he calls a girl hot. Or a bitch. Anyways, thank you for submitting these two and we have only two Reapings to go! I'm so so excited to write this story. I'm updating from school and it blocks so I had to counter-block their block. The things I do for you guys. Follow, favorite, and review!**

 **What did you think of Delphine and Warf?**

 **How long do you expect them to last?**


	12. district eight

**Anna's first POV contains descriptions of depression, suicide, and self harm.**

* * *

 **Viridian Gabardine, District Eight Male (Age 17)**

I made sure Sash was looking in the right direction, then slipped the card between his hands. It had to be absolutely _precise_ for this trick to work.

"Alright, so you're sure I did nothing?"

"Positive." He told me, his blue eyes making contact with mine.

"And the card you chose was a hundred percent random, correct?"

"Yeah." He nodded, bouncing his leg in anticipation. No matter how often I repeated a trick, each time was exciting. I considered it part of my charm.

"Lift your hand."

Sash revealed the five of hearts and let out a gasp.

"Is this your card?" I grinned at the expression of shock on his face.

"Wow, I'm actually pretty impressed."

My smile widened. It was a simple trick, really, but the praise was pleasant. Energizing.

"How'd you do it?"

I shuffled the cards and placed them back into the deck. "A good magician never reveals his tricks."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh come on-"

All of a sudden I heard the door creak open and froze. I let out a nervous laugh as my mom examined what I was doing with a disapproving look in her eyes.

"Magic? _Really_? On the day of the Reapings?"

"I was just trying to have some fun." I scowled, crossing my arms.

"I don't care if it's fun, it's useless. You know we can't afford fun." Her voice lowered to a whisper.

I wasn't really remorseful. I was my own person, I wasn't a blank slate for her to project on. I wanted to do magic and I was good at it. I could eventually take my tricks to the Capitol and get rich.

I didn't want to spend my life cooped up, making outfit after outfit after outfit.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't care."

What was she gonna do? Try to burn my cards again? I always hid them well, it was her fault for not knowing magicians are practically professional thing-hiders.

She tutted at me and closed the door. "Reapings start in two hours. I expect you to be ready by eleven."

"Okay." I muttered.

A silence settled over the room.

Sash broke it with a cough. "I think I should go? My parents are probably expecting me too and I don't wanna make things worse between you and your mom. Show me more tricks when I come back later, they're great."

"Yeah, sure." Disappointment wove its way into my heart but it was more numbing than sharp. I wanted to show him more, but my more mature side understood he had a good reason and it was probably for the best. Tensions were always too high for comfort on Reaping day.

Besides, I'd hang out with him later.

* * *

 **Anna Crank-Spool, District Eight Female (Age 17)**

Another year, another Reaping.

I couldn't believe it was three whole years ago now.

My best friend was Reaped for the seventeenth Games

She was stupid, she was brash, she was loud and she was my best friend. We were practically attached at the hip and I knew I could trust her forever and tell her anything and she'd hug me and comfort me.

I always had slight problems. I was insecure about myself and social situations made me want to throw up, but I always could rely on her to stick up for me. She helped me come out of my shell. After she was gone, I faded away into a crying mess.

I wanted to die. I had nobody. And I've gotten much more mature over the past three years but the wound simply can't heal.

She promised me she'd win but we both knew it was impossible. A scrawny thirteen-year-old, however brave she was, didn't stand a chance next to the Careers.

And she died in the bloodbath. Two minutes in. I got queasy thinking about the bitch from Two stabbing her in the gut. She ranked 22nd and became just another name, another face, another statistic. It took seven months for the nightmares to go away.

I was lost, she was all I was.

My Dad worked off in the Capitol and my mom was a partygoer who really couldn't care less about us. She only married my dad for the money. Our family was rich but they never gave me anything more than a tiny house. I took care of my brother Max.

I sliced up several strawberries for the two of us, my mouth curling into a smile as I thought of how happy he'd be when he saw I made these. Fresh berries were expensive but I gathered a few extra coins from my job at the Peacekeeper uniform factory in honor of the Reapings.

I didn't believe I would be Reaped, Eight was a large District. I doubted fate could loathe someone enough to get their best friend, then themselves Reaped. But I hated the lack of certainity.

Max rubbed his eyes as he walked into the compact kitchen. "What's for breakfast?" He mumbled, still sleepy.

"Strawberries."

His face lit up and warmed my heart.

"Thank you! Is today special?"

"No, not exactly." I told him. He was too young to know. "I'm off work today but I have to go check something at around noon. You'll be home alone."

He didn't really listen and instead took a plate of fruit and sat at the two-person table. "Okay."

I took this opportunity to go upstairs and change. The Capitol expected us to look our very best in case we were Reaped. We couldn't afford nice dresses but I had one that looked alright.

I ran up to my plain bedroom and took off my clothes. My stomach turned when I saw the scars covering my legs. I was disgusted. I hadn't done it since I was fifteen but they were too deep to ever fade away.

After Cass died, my mental state became terrible. Seriously terrible. I would've killed myself if I wasn't too scared. Instead I just cut until my limbs were a warzone. And my mind was winning.

I slipped the dress over my head and put it on. It was blue, strapless, and designed so it exposed my shoulders and back.

I felt self conscious, but it was all I had. I braided my dark hair for the occasion and slipped on my regular old brown flats.

Another year. Just another year. I would be fine. So why did I worry?

* * *

 **Viridian Gabardine, District Eight Male (Age 17)**

I shuffled my cards, fidgeting. I had no trick planned for this afternoon, instead, this was the Capitol's show.

Four hundred and fifty six tributes entered the arena in the past. All ended up dead except nineteen. And I had a chance of becoming one of the hundreds, right here, right now.

I wasn't a nervous guy but damn, was I nervous.

Being nervous and getting bored easily were two traits that went as well together as red and pink. I only knew that because my mom never shut up about clothes.

My brain was whirring but it had nothing to think about instead of the Reaping so that just made me think about it way too much.

Eight had one Victor, Loraine Twine. She was an average girl who mostly won out of pure luck. Before the arena she was homeless and understood survival well enough to not-die from natural causes.

The Career pack was disorganized and a brute from Seven killed them in their sleep. Said brute from Seven later died from dehydration, so by then all the strong tributes were gone and she simply waited it out.

The grand finale was her stabbing the girl from Four in the heart after a muttered apology.

I was barely in school during these Games and they terrified me before I even knew I could end up in the arena.

But I wasn't going to the Games. My paranoia was so _ridiculous_. I acted like I was actually gonna die in a week, like an idiot. I wanted to laugh at myself but that would look weird in front of everyone.

Our escort was a short, plump Capitol woman called Izzy.

She wasn't rude, but acted like a diva most the time. Her hair was covered in glitter and she wore a skin-tight white dress.

Nothing too out of what the Capitol considered ordinary.

"Welcome, District Eight! Welcome to your twentieth annual Reaping ceremony! Now, I'm going to get right into this because the author is bloody tired of writing Reapings. Thank you for your understanding!"

I bounced my leg. Izzy liked to separate herself from the other mentors and start with the boys. I'd finally know it wasn't me for sure.

She strode to the bowl, her heels clicking, and gave the District a devilish smile as she selected a slip.

"Your male tribute is Viridian Gabardine!"

All I felt was the air heaving in and out of my lungs. In and out. For some reason I let out a laugh. So it was me. Maybe I'm not just a magician, maybe I can see the goddamn future. Crazy, isn't it?

* * *

 **Anna Crank-Spool, District Eight Female (Age 17)**

The boy seemed calm as he walked to the podium.

They always panicked at first, then learned to keep it inside. I'd learned from years of observing tributes. Being shy and blending into the crowd had its perks.

"Lovely!" Izzy chirped. "You look nice and strong. Now for the ladies."

My mouth was dry. Yes, my odds of being Reaped were less than one percent of one percent but did my anxiety care? No.

The escort dipped her hand into the bowl.

"Anna Crank-Spool!"

My heart rate shot up and I felt my hands begin to sweat. My lungs gasped for air. Fear engulfed my consciousness and shoved away any other thoughts.

Max couldn't take care of himself! He would die without me, he was seven years old for God's sake! And what would he think when I didn't come back? He thought I was only running out to work!

I was gonna die. I was gonna be a bloodbath and nobody would remember me and I'd be simply another name, another dead kid. I was gonna die in front of everyone. And Max would find out and he was too young and this wasn't right, it wasn't fair.

"My brother doesn't know I'm here. He's seven." I muttered to Izzy, whose mouth widened in shock.

"Good heavens, well, I'll get a Peacekeeper to tell him. Is he by himself?"

I grimly nodded. What if he ended up like me after Cass? I felt like my heart was physically ripped into two. It was exactly how I felt when she died but now the pain was fresh.

I wanted him to be safe, I wanted him to grow up okay and have the childhood I didn't but now that wouldn't happen.

And I would never see his face again, I'd never hear him smile or laugh and I'd never say goodbye.

At least I got to wish Cass farewell.

Izzy smiled at the crowd, her silver teeth shining in the hazy sunlight. "District Eight: Your tributes, Viridian Gabardine, that's quite a mouthful, and Anna Crank-Spool!"

Viridian gave me a lopsided, awkward grin. I felt myself trembling. I felt faint. He extended his hand and I shook it, my fingers numb.

I couldn't breathe.

* * *

 **AN: I had to put that fourth wall break in there, no matter how unprofessional it was. Sorry not sorry. Thanks for reading! If anyone skipped Anna's POV, I'll give you a quick summary: Her best friend was Reaped a few years back and she's felt awful ever since, and this morning all she really did was make breakfast for her brother and put a Reaping dress on.**

 **I can't believe we're on our second to last Reaping! I've attempted SYOTs before and I've never gotten past around three or four chapters, but I think I'm going to finish this one. I already have a vague idea of who might win. Thank you to everyone who has supported this story. You're the reason I keep writing it. Follow, favorite, and review!**

 **Opinions of Anna and Viridian?**

 **How long do you expect them to survive?**


	13. district seven

**Ever Carlin, District Seven Female (Age 18)**

My mom always said these competitions were no good but I didn't care.

They were one of the few ways I could have harmless fun, and I sometimes even won extra money. What was wrong with that?

Now, I was never one to run off and do anything stupid. I always thought about what I was doing before I did it, and nothing bad could happen from going. I'd gone over it in my head.

She wanted me to be a lumberjack anyways. I loved my mom but usually I didn't understand her.

But regardless, we were here at the competition. It was nice and nearly empty since most people were off preparing for the Reapings.

"I'm going to go check the odds," My dad told us.

I wasn't supposed to have a favorite parent but he was my favorite. He worked his ass off yet managed to give a damn about us, while my mom did neither.

"Sounds good!" My brother Austin gave him a thumbs-up.

He was fourteen and this was his first time attending one of these, and he was thrilled.

Not much went on in our lives. We were just your regular District Seven family.

Everyone was scattered around the area and there was a directory showing where was what. I ran my finger down the list and paused at "Speed: 18 & Under Girls".

There wouldn't be many people I'd compete against. I could win.

I turned towards Austin, who was focusing on the directory as well. "Do you think I should enter this?"

He bounced and nodded. "Yeah, you could win! You always do, I don't know why you don't come here more often."

I felt my face turn red. I hated to admit it but my only reason was my fear of losing. I'd rather not risk it than face the humiliation.

"I think I will." I shook my nerves off with a rare smile.

We followed the path indicated on the directory and must've passed hundreds of trees along the way. Austin's excitement seemed to die down and he was quiet.

It was a pleasant, cool, humid day. Today was technically summertime but the canopy provided adequate shade.

Eventually, we made it. A group of girls stood by a row of nearly identical maple trees. They must've been hundreds of years old and today we would try to chop them down as quickly as possible.

Austin shuffled over to the group of rocks where a couple dozen people sat, watching and betting.

A tall woman holding a stack of papers sat on a log, examining the other five girls and I.

"Are you joining us?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, feeling slightly pressured but still eager. She was intimidating.

"Alright." She said and gestured me over towards the others. "Stand by them, you got here just on time."

I smirked, putting on a nice, confident facade. Fake it until you make it.

These girls were weak, I was gonna win this thing.

* * *

 **Blaze Montana, District Seven Male (Age 17)**

I strolled through the marketplace, keeping a charming, unsuspecting grin on my face.

I scanned the booths for something small, something lovely, and something that was hopefully that right shade of blue-green.

And something I could easily slip into my pocket without anyone noticing.

Stealing was wrong, yes, but my sister and I needed food and clothing. It wasn't like I was only doing it to give other people a disadvantage.

And maybe a Reaping day bracelet wasn't necessary, but she deserved something nice every once in a while. She had a ton of friends but I always worried she was unhappy and I wasn't doing enough.

Our community home childhood was rotten so I'd have to constantly steal.

The woman in charge rarely gave us any food and probably wouldn't care if we starved to death.

Over time I became a master of pickpocketing and shoplifting. I never got caught and if I ever did I'd be fast enough to get away.

Then I saw it and shook myself out of my thoughts.

The bracelet was made of turquoise stones. I wasn't sure what they were called but they looked pretty, and they were my sister's favorite color.

She would love it.

I made my way to the table, which was run by a posh-looking girl a year or two older than me.

"Hi, are you interested in anything?" She asked. "Bracelets are five gold coins each, necklaces are eight."

"I'm just browsing, my sister might want one of these." I looked at her and positioned my hand just right as the other one snatched the bracelet. I smiled. Score. She wasn't even paying attention.

"I'm not gonna buy anything. See you." I nodded and quickly turned around, trying to get away before she noticed it was missing.

Once she did I doubted she would remember my face. I was considered good looking but I had the typical dark brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin of the District. I looked like almost every other teenage boy.

I exited the market and ran down the street to the community home. The main area of the District was abnormally crowded for the Reapings. All the rich people came around to shop and celebrate.

I wouldn't even really call it a home, more like a big room with supplies scattered all around and dozens of homeless teenagers.

Then again, beggars can't be choosers.

At least we had a shelter, and I realized how ungrateful I sounded.

I swung open the doors and made my way to our little spot in the corner, stepping over backpacks and sleeping bags.

Ivy and I had two twin size mattresses and a couple ratty old blankets. We also each carried around a tiny pouch containing our money and valuables.

It was enough to live by and I found myself stealing less and less lately.

I did my best to be a good person despite my questionable actions, and I wanted to make the world a little bit of a better place.

Even if I went down the wrong path.

* * *

 **Ever Carlin, District Seven Female (Age 18)**

Taylor flattened her hair. "The Reapings are dumb." She declared, rolling her eyes. "Why don't the Peacekeepers just kidnap the kids from their houses?" Her tone was snarky.

I wanted to tell her to shut up, there were Peacekeepers everywhere, but I stopped myself. Sometimes it was better not to be cautious.

I smiled as I reached into my pocket and felt the five coins I won earlier. I barely placed first. Maybe being confident has its perks, even if it isn't real.

"It would take a lot less time." I looked around the square. There must've been tens of thousands of kids here, there was no chance anyone I know would be Reaped, let alone me.

It wasn't rational to worry about it.

Seven's three Victors sat next to the mayor. I didn't really know their names or their stories; there were far more important things to worry about.

I had no clue why everyone was so obsessed with the Games. All I knew about the Victors was that their names were Azalea, Alex, and Raine, and most of them won around a decade ago. I didn't give a shit, I just wanted to get on with it and go home.

I was familiar with the escort. His name was Rowan and he was alright, he did his job better than half of them. Most escorts never seemed to shut the Hell up.

"Welcome, District Seven!" He smiled at the crowd, who burst into applause. Seven was more enthusiastic about the Games than the other outer Districts, mainly since our tributes were stronger and we had more Victors than most.

"As you lovely folks know, we're gathered here today to select our two tributes to represent us in the Twentieth Annual Hunger Games! A thrill indeed."

"Two decades ago, after the rebels tore Panem apart, the Capitol decreed that each year, each District would send two children from ages twelve to eighteen to participate in the Hunger Games. The twenty-four tributes would fight to the death until one Victor stood. How exciting!"

Exciting if you're watching from your Capitol bed, maybe.

"Now, let us begin."

Taylor was bouncing her leg, much like Austin earlier. He'd be okay too, right?

"I'm bloody anxious." Her voice was quieter than usual and I felt a pang of worry. She was my best friend and if anything happened to her I wouldn't get over it for years.

"Me too." I comforted her. Together we were tough, tough enough to trust each other.

Rowan dramatically sashayed to the girls' bowl and I stifled a laugh. Capitolites were insane.

He took a moment to choose a slip and I felt myself breathing heavily.

"District Seven, your female tribute is Ever Carlin!"

* * *

 **Blaze Montana, District Seven Male (Age 17)**

It took her a couple tries to get herself on the stage. She didn't come up until Rowan called her name a second time and Peacekeepers began to look through the crowd. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

This girl was quiet. She muttered something to the escort, who smiled and nodded, and took her place besides him.

She was probably scared shitless and I felt a pang of sadness. She was going to die.

District Seven would probably be lost among the other outer Districts just like every year. The Capitol would kill twenty-three more kids, most of them even younger than me.

Rowan cleared his throat. "Now, we have our female tribute, Ever Carlin. Time to select the boy."

I wrung my hands and felt myself twitching. I took tesserae. My odds were worse than those of most kids my age, I could very realistically be sent into the arena in a matter of days.

But I wouldn't be Reaped. I didn't deserve it.

Then again, nobody did.

He strode to the boy's bowl and delicately chose a slip of paper. The square was silent.

"Blaze Montana!"

Fuck. Oh no. No, no, no.

In the Games it was kill or be killed and I couldn't do either.

I twitched more and more. I _was_ going into the Games, I was going to come back in a coffin.

I was going to _die_.

What about Ivy? Would she get enough food from her friends?

What about me, what about my life?

I stepped forward and walked to the podium.

It only took a few moments but I had enough thoughts in those moments to last me an hour.

I desperately gripped at any sort of idea, anything to prove I wouldn't be a tribute: maybe I was dreaming, maybe there was a mistake.

The square was hazy and I felt my head go light. I would _not_ faint. I would not embarrass myself like that.

"District Seven, I present your tributes: Ever Carlin and Blaze Montana!"

I shook hands with Ever and the crowd applauded.

So this was it.

* * *

 **AN: FINALLY WE'RE DONE! Sorry this chapter was short, I'm just ridiculously tired of writing Reapings! I've introduced you lovely readers to all twenty-four tributes and I believe I have chosen a Victor. It might change based off your preferences and my whims but who knows!**

 **If you feel like the characters you've seen so far have been shallow/underdeveloped, don't worry. I just showed you the tip of the iceberg and as the story continues I'll reveal more and more. You guys really did submit some outstanding tributes.**

 **Next we'll have three-ish train ride chapters, and then we'll get to see the opening ceremony! I'm so excited for this story and it makes me happy people enjoy the things I write. I'm also sad I'll have to kill twenty three of these kids off? Most of them deserve to live.**

 **Thank you all for reading, and please leave a review if you liked it! Or even if you didn't, tell me how to improve! I loved both of these characters but I'm afraid I didn't write them well. And I'd appreciate if you answered these questions:**

 **What did you think of Ever and Blaze?**

 **How long do you expect them to last?**

 **Who are your favorites and least favorites out of all the tributes?**

 **Who do you think will be the Victor?**

 **Any other thoughts/predictions?**


	14. train rides: part one

**Cerise Ambersmith, District One Female (Age 17)**

I made myself comfortable on the couch as soon as we finally got on the train, trying to shove aside my anxieties. For all I knew Jade was fully aware that I spilled and had her personal executor or some shit ready.

As soon as I won, she would have no power over me. Hell, if I wanted I could have _her_ killed.

The train was luxuriously designed, perhaps even more so than the buildings of District One. The walls were reddish-brown oak and a glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a glimmering glow upon the compartment.

Of course, the future Victor's accommodations had to be nothing but perfect. The Capitol knew they'd probably come from One.

The door opened, and Chance, my District partner, entered the room. I didn't really know him well, he was kind of a loser. Rich friends but nothing interesting about him.

I guess he did well in training. Why else would he be here?

He sat next to me. "So, hello Cerise. Would you like to watch the Reapings?"

He was trying to be nice but it didn't exactly work in this awkward situation. I understood people. He was scared of me. Aw.

I almost felt bad for him.

"Yeah, that's what I was going to do." I muttered, picking up the remote and switching the television on. The one from my house was still bigger.

I sounded awkward too. What was wrong with me?

The screen lit up and displayed our square, and already showed Chance and I shaking hands. My smile looked genuine. It wasn't.

"Fuck yes, they got my good side." My highlighter was _glowing_ , damn.

Chance let out a laugh. "Ha, I wasn't too worried about that on my part."

"Of course." I replied as District Two showed up. The escort called a boy's name and immediately a tall, glaring kid with dark skin and hair volunteered. Was he really tough or was it an act? My mind whirred.

Often, it was a combination of both. Before they died they always let their true colors show.

He introduced himself as Mars Ryker and said he wanted to make his District proud, blah blah blah. Same old, same old.

Then a blonde girl in a blue dress ran to the podium with a snarky little smile on her face.

"Jade Halite. You'll know me as Two's second Victor in a row."

Wait, her name was _Jade_? What the fuck?

"Oh, she has the same name as the mayor's kid." Chance remarked. No shit, Sherlock.

"Uh-huh." I rolled my eyes. It didn't matter but it was one weird coincidence.

The screen switched to the pretentious square of District Three. You could almost smell the geekiness.

First they Reaped a short girl who simply tried to seem stronger than she looked, then a boy who couldn't be older than thirteen. Both wouldn't make it to the final twelve judging off this.

Again, I _almost_ felt bad.

* * *

 **Mars Ryker, District Two Male (Age 18)**

Nobody said a single word to me so far. With Jade as my partner, that wasn't exactly a complaint, even if she was usually loud.

We sat in front of the television and waited for it to tune in. Since the train ride from Two to the Capitol was apparently only an hour and a half, they didn't worry too much about our luxuries, so our TV was slow.

"Come on, how does this dumb thing work?" Jade mumbled, pressing the remote buttons. Finally the screen lit up and displayed the square of District One.

The escort, a woman with sparkling silver hair and a tight white dress, selected a name from the girls' bowl, and all Hell broke loose.

I watched in shock as at least ten girls shouted "I VOLUNTEER!" and fought their way to the top. None of them could try to run for it without another dragging them back. It was a mess. Did One really always do it like that?

"Uncivilized whores." Jade remarked. A little harsh, but the uncivilized part was true.

A girl with choppy pink hair slipped between the rest of them and dashed to the podium without a scratch.

The escort appeared dazed. "Name, dear?" She asked.

"Cerise Ambersmith." She smiled at the crowd. "Your next Victor."

Jade rolled her eyes. "Please. She looks like me when I was thirteen."

I couldn't rise to her defense. She did have a baby face, and appeared to stand at only an inch or two over five feet.

I doubted she would be a real threat in the Games, which was good because I can't handle one Jade, let alone two.

"Magnificent! If you managed to get past the other girls I'm sure you have a good shot." The escort shooed her to the side, chose a second slip, and announced,

"Ri-"

"I VOLUNTEER!"

Instead of having a full on fight, the boys simply raced to the podium. A lanky kid with pale blonde hair made it first, grinning.

"Hello, sir, what's your name?" Moriah asked.

"Chance Garnet." He winked and the crowd, especially the girls, cheered. Nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary, I already knew what sort of tribute he'd be. A hit with the ladies who scored a nine or so in training but died before the final six.

Maybe I actually had a shot at winning.

* * *

 **Archibald Pell, District Three Male (Age 13)**

I missed Sylvester and I missed my dad and I even missed the bunnies.

Once we boarded the train I let myself cry. My eyes burned and tears ran down my cheeks. I'd never see my family again, I'd never even hear from them.

Our goodbyes were quick and rushed. They never gave us enough time. In a few days I'd be dead and I wouldn't exist anymore. It terrified me.

I had no chance of survival and that was that. Why couldn't I accept it? I was good at accepting facts.

There was no scientific way to know what came after death, whether it was Hell or Heaven or an eternal unconsciousness. I'd be less afraid if I knew, but I think it's human nature to fear the unknown.

Three was at least a thousand miles from the Capitol so we wouldn't arrive until late that night. I'd learned it was further north than the rest of the Districts, so the computers wouldn't overheat.

The Capitol, on the other hand, was part of a rather temperate area a bit to the west, and surrounded by mountains on every side.

I sat at the dining table, stirring my tomato soup. Penny was actually being sympathetic and told me it would help me feel better. The soup was warm and rich, a million times better than anything I ever ate at home. Even if I was too miserable to appreciate it.

The door opened and Alatic walked in, scowling at me. Electra followed and gave me a warm smile.

"Tick, would you mind sitting next to Pell?" She asked, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table facing me.

Tick didn't say a word.

"Alright." She tapped her nails on the table. "How are you feeling? Nervous? Scared? Excited?"

 _Excited_? This wasn't District One or Two.

"No." I responded stiffly, sitting up straight. "I'm scared."

Tick glared at Electra, who still had a big grin on her face. Didn't she know we were going to die?

"Tick? Any thoughts?"

She shook her head. Her facial expressions were stone cold. I bet she was scared too. All twenty-four of us were.

"What about strategies? Do you want allies?"

"Um," I hesitated. I forgot to think about this. "I'll probably try to stay under the radar. I might make allies, it depends on what the other tributes are like." My voice trembled.

How was I supposed to not break down during these few days? I still couldn't process what was happening.

"That's a good idea. Nobody ever felt threatened by me, but I made it out and they didn't."

But you were eighteen, I wanted to argue. You were strong, smart and tall.

I kept my mouth shut.

"What about you, Tick?"

She raised her head a bit. "Avoid everyone."

I mean, that was smart too. When you trusted nobody, nobody could betray you. Even if nobody backed you up when you needed it.

"So we've got two lone wolves over here." Electra remarked, tapping her chin. "Lone wolves _do_ tend to survive the longest, though. Less alliance drama, more time to train, and you stand out more to sponsors."

How exactly would a short nerdy boy and an edgy girl from Three stand out to the Capitol?

Electra didn't have to act like we were dumb, we both knew they already labelled us as bloodbaths.

* * *

 **Warf Pollman, District Four Male (Age 16)**

The One and Two girls were hot too! I would _not_ mind sticking with them in the Games. The other guys weren't bad looking either, but I didn't have to worry.

Delphine picked a book off the shelf and was reading, fidgeting as she did so. Aw, was she nervous? I could comfort her. Even if she was a bitch.

"You're really hot, you know." I winked at her and she jumped a bit, her cheeks flushing.

"Please, for the sake of your reputation, shut up."

Huh? What the fuck did that mean?

"I think you're worth risking my reputation for."

She nonchalantly continued reading, not even looking at me. "Whatever."

I'd grow on her. And even if I didn't I had two backup plans.

The door opened and I whipped my head around to see Marvin and Mags entering the room.

"So, the Academy chose you two. A sixteen-year-old and a seventeen-year-old." Marvin grumbled. I began to feel uneasy.

"Yes, they chose me." Delphine confirmed.

"What about you?" Marvin asked, turning towards me.

I smiled. "I figured I could win early. I don't need to be eighteen."

Marvin immediately groaned. "Oh great, we have another one. Why do we always get the kids who ac-"

Mags raised her hand and he fell silent. Finally she spoke.

"I feel I should remind you, you were much like him in your Games." Her voice was soft.

"It rarely works out!" He exclaimed. "I won but usually, they both die! They're so certain they'll win even if dozens of stronger tributes have died! They never learn!"

"Calm down." Mags gave him a scathing look. "You're being unprofessional."

She was sort of hot. A little old. Anyways.

"You don't know anything about me. How do you know I'm gonna die?" I asked.

"You're sixteen and an idiot." Marvin stated bluntly. I was taken aback.

I snapped, "Still, you don't know anything about me." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mags and Delphine giving each other knowing glances. Fucking bitches. They didn't know me!

He sighed. "Kid, I've known a million tributes just like you, and they all died. I'm here to help. If you pull your head outta your ass and listen you just might win. Do you want my help or not?"

I wouldn't admit it but I understood what he said. He probably assumed I was like every other overconfident Career.

"Fine." I sighed. "Just because you know what you're doing."

* * *

 **AN: This was such a fun chapter to write! I love getting to know these characters, and I love getting to write quick little snapshot POVs, mainly because I don't have the attention span to do one thing for a long time.**

 **Sidenote: if you want me to give you a shout-out or submit to your SYOT, PM me, I know what it's like to be frustrated with a lack of submissions!**

 **Here are your questions!**

 **1\. Favorite pair?**

 **2\. Have your opinions of any of these tributes changed?**

 _ **Thank you for reading, and please leave a review!**_


	15. train rides: part two

**I'm so sorry for the wait. An explanation is at the bottom.**

* * *

 **Ididi Ididi, District Five Female (Age 15)**

I didn't know where we were going. A lady called Althea said we were on our way to the Capitol. I never heard of it. I didn't know why they chose me to go to the Hunger Games.

The room I sat in was the prettiest room I've seen by far. When I walked inside earlier I gasped.

Everything was shiny and clean and the windows were huge and clear. The floors and walls were made of wood, but not the dirty old wood my room was made of. I could actually look at the world outside. It moved really fast.

A young boy sat next to me on a long, soft chair. He was short and looked like a normal person. Why were there so many back there but now it was only the two of us?

He didn't appear to be breathing normally and instead stared off into space. His eyes were watering. Was he okay? He seemed unhappy. Afraid.

"Hello," I said to him. That was how people normally greeted each other. I stretched my mouth out in a smile in an attempt to seem friendly.

"H-hi." He sniffled. "I'm Sable."

So we called him Sable the way we called the woman Althea. Was I called Ididi Ididi?

"I'm Ididi Ididi," I told him.

He nodded. "I know."

"Why do your eyes have water?" I asked, pointing at them. "Are you sick?"

"No." He responded, rubbing his eyes. "I'm upset."

"Why?"

He paused, then sighed. "Ididi, do you know why we're here?"

I didn't. Would he finally tell me? I wanted to know. I needed to check on Daisy. And there were some nice-looking books I wanted to come home and read. Or maybe look at the pictures.

"No," I replied flatly. "I don't know." I had some ideas in my head but I wasn't absolutely sure of any of them.

Sable appeared surprised. "I don't know anything about you so I'm not going to ask why."

I didn't know what he meant.

"I hate to be the one who has to tell you this, you deserve to be safe."

We must be in danger. Is that why he's distressed?

He took a deep breath, his eyes getting more and more watery. "Every year, the Capitol chooses two children from each District. There are twelve Districts. These twenty-four kids are all sent into an arena. Only one comes out." His voice shook. "Only one."

What happened to the other twenty-three? Why didn't I know about this? Why did they keep everything from me?

Why was a feeling of dread washing over me?

There was a silence, strained only by the hum of the train.

"What about the rest?"

Sable's face turned paler and paler. He let out a sob.

"They die. We're gonna die, Ididi. I'm sorry."

My heart sunk. "Oh."

This was why nobody told me. We were the flies in the Capitol's web.

I didn't know a whole lot about the world but I understood death.

* * *

 **Kied Zola, District Six Male (Age 16)**

Natara and I sat on the couch, watching the Reapings. So far, nobody seemed to be _too_ out of the ordinary. The girls from One and Two and the boy from Four declared themselves the next winners, like Careers often did, and the pair from Three was an angry girl and a small boy.

I tried to distract myself, but worry took over my mind. I would die. I could've lived a full life but I was nearing my end in a matter of days.

Would Rena, Julian, and Eri be fine without me?

What if they forgot me?

Luckily for my confident facade, I was good at hiding my anxieties.

As for Natara, she seemed to have calmed. Earlier I tried to strike up a conversation with her but her only responses were soft whispers.

The District Five Reapings were aired next. Judging by the square, it resembled a cleaner version of District Six, without all the drugs and factory smoke. It wasn't surprising, as Five specialized in electricity and nuclear power rather than metals and transportation.

"Ididi Ididi!" shouted the escort.

Then something out of the ordinary happened.

Nobody stood up. Instead, the square filled with whispers. Peacekeepers began to shove their way through the crowd, looking for this Ididi girl.

The escort smiled, her expression looking strained. Her job usually wasn't this strange. Sure, the selected tributes had tried to hide before, but there was never this much muttering in the background.

Then a pale, wide-eyed girl stepped out of the fifteen-year-old section.

She stopped and stared at the podium, looking like a lost puppy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natara scowling.

"Come on up now!" The escort chirped, likely relieved that things were back to sort-of-normal.

Ididi made her way to the podium and stood by Althea without moving a muscle. Poor kid. She seemed confused as all hell.

"Got anything to say to your district?"

The square was silent, and Ididi made no sound besides heavily breathing. I had no idea who this girl could be, and a part of me didn't want to know.

"Very well, now to the boys." Althea appeared pained.

She took her time picking a paper, probably praying for a tough eighteen-year-old who actually had a shot at winning.

"Sable Isaac!"

Oh no. It was a little kid.

His eyes began to swell up as he walked down the middle of the square.

He was visibly shaking as the escort handed him the microphone and he awkwardly told everyone to wish him luck. At least I wasn't the only one who made an odd statement when I was Reaped.

The television went dark for a moment, then the interlude of Adonis Flickerman smiling at Panem began to play, and Natara slowly turned towards me.

"So, what _is_ your plan?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

I broke into a cold sweat as I remembered the whole country thought I knew what I was doing. I had no clue. And if she knew I didn't have a real plan, this girl could tell every tribute in the Games and get rid of my _only_ advantage.

"Not telling," I responded, smirking.

She wasn't intimidating but seemed like an angry person and I wanted to avoid her. Definitely not a potential ally.

"Whatever you say." She told me, staring out the window. "By the way, you have blood pouring out of your eyes."

I quickly turned towards the mirror, and I looked a hundred percent normal.

"Ha, ha. Hilarious."

"I mean it." Her voice was steady and serious. My stomach began to churn. Something was wrong with her.

"Is this real or are you seeing things?" I asked. Maybe she was crazy, maybe that's why I'd never seen her at school.

She stared at the ground for a few seconds, her eyes almost glassy. "Both."

Okay, so she was crazy. That was fine. It was common for strange people to enter the arena; perhaps since the Capitol was in desperate need of some variety. The tropes of "cold-hearted killer" and "sweet outer District child" must have gotten old quickly.

"What's _your_ plan?"

For the first time since we met, her eyes met mine. "We'll both die. Does it really matter?"

* * *

 **Blaze Montana, District Seven Male (Age 17)**

Right now my sister sat all alone in the community home and I was on a train ride to my death. What a fucking fantastic day.

Ironically, this train was easily the nicest place I'd been in my entire life.

My District partner, Ever, fiddled with the remote and trying to turn on the television. Electronics were a rare luxury in Seven, so we knew almost nothing about the odd little screen.

I fidgeted in my seat. Ivy didn't know how to steal. Sure, it was likely her friends would step in, but there was literally nothing I could do at this point to give her a better future or keep her from dying.

"Got it." Ever muttered as the television lit up, displaying the square of some urban District. I was surprised to hear her talk.

We stared at the screen. Judging by the factories and smoggy skies in the background, it seemed to be showing the Reapings of Eight.

The escort seemed to have no concept of subtlety whatsoever, with her hair covered in glitter and a dress bright enough to be seen from space. She was tame compared to other Capitolites, but their outfits always shocked me and everyone else in the Districts.

"Viridian Gabardine!"

A short, skinny boy with brown hair calmly walked up to the podium. There didn't seem to be a single trace of fear on his face.

"You look nice and strong."

He couldn't have weighed more than a hundred thirty pounds. Of course, I felt bad for the kid, but if this was a game of strength the odds weren't in his favor.

"Anna Crank-Spool!"

A tall, dark-haired girl with a grave expression on her face climbed up the stairs to the podium.

She whispered something to the escort, whose eyes widened in shock.

"Good heavens, I'll get a Peacekeeper to inform him. Is he alone?"

She nodded.

Ever scowled, and I felt my brow furrowing too. How many of the tributes were leaving behind people who needed us? Did the Capitol know that they were ruining many more than twenty-four lives each year?

I wasn't friends with Ever, but we went to school together and I knew she had a younger brother. Many of the selected came from poor households where every bit of labor was needed.

Except me. I used other means to meet my ends.

Did that make me weaker than the rest?

* * *

 **Anna Crank-Spool, District Eight Female (Age 17)**

I sunk into a state of cool-headedness. As edgy as it sounded, fourteen-year-old me would be thrilled to die. And painful deaths were a rarity in the Games, so I'd go quickly and easily into the dark.

My only concern was for Max. He'd be sent to a community home, most likely, but the kids there always were hungry. He'd live the rest of his life not knowing why I disappeared and that knowledge stabbed me in the gut.

I would be his Cass. He was the only person who would remember me, but I'd never see him again and he'd only see me sent back in a box. My eyes burned and I felt tears stream down my cheeks.

I sat on the couch, staring at the ground. The smell of chicken wafted over from the next room, but I had no desire to get up or eat. I didn't want to move. I wanted to sit there forever and eventually fade away.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in." My voice was hoarse.

My District partner, Viridian, stepped inside, holding two plates. "I thought you might want some food."

He sat down next to me and handed me the meal. Chicken and peas. They looked less appetizing than they usually would.

"I'm not hungry," I told him. "Thank you, though."

My stomach rumbled and my face turned red. He laughed.

"You sure?"

I shrugged and picked up the fork. "Maybe I am."

Viridian stuffed a spoonful of peas into his mouth. "It's fine. I get it. We're in a shitty situation. Quite possibly the shittiest situation anyone in the country is in."

I nodded. "Yup. We are."

We ate in silence for a few moments, until he spoke up.

"Look, if we wanna last long, we can't do it alone. The kids from One and Two and Four are gonna team up and hunt everyone down. It sucks ass but it's the truth. If everyone else just runs off all alone, they're gonna pick us off one by one and like every year, one of them is gonna win."

I nodded. Where was he going with this?

"What I'm saying is, do you wanna form an alliance?"

I blinked. Did someone want to team up with me? Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if I decided to jump off the platform and blow up.

"You serious?" I tilted my head.

He nodded. "Yeah. We can make our _own_ alliance. There are usually five or six Careers and I'm sure we can get that many of the others to join us."

"Won't that just make us a target?" I asked. An alliance of two or three would suffice, but more than that wouldn't exactly keep us under the radar. And I wanted to live.

"I mean, if we get enough people, we can scare them away."

I snorted. "Yeah, sure. A bunch of outer district kids scaring the fucking _Careers_. That's realistic."

He scowled. "Well, if you have a better idea, I'm all ears."

"We should team up with one, maybe two, of the others," I explained. "That way they won't care about us, but we can still defend ourselves if we come across a stronger tribute."

"We haven't _met_ any of the others yet. How about we talk to some of them and _then_ decide what to do?"

I rolled my eyes in a half-joking manner. "Fine."

"We're good, right?" He grinned.

Maybe I was stupid, since I barely knew this kid, but I trusted him. Maybe he reminded me of Cass.

"We're good."

"Do you want to see a magic trick?"

"A _what_?"

He pulled a deck of cards out from his pocket and grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Watch. you'll love this."

* * *

 **AN: I'M SORRY. I CAN EXPLAIN.**

 **My computer crashed and I lost this entire chapter. This made me lose all inspiration for a while, and in all honesty, I've been a bit of a mess lately.**

 **Then I thought: fuck it. I'm not gonna let my readers down. I'm gonna write this thing.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading! I thought I'd explain how I'll tell the rest of this story, so here goes. I'll give each tribute 2-3 Capitol POVs, likely depending on whether they got a train ride POV. However, your tributes will see a lot of each other so each one will get a good amount of screen time.**

 **Then in the arena, we'll get to see all the different alliances I've planned! I have some really interesting character dynamics that I'll write.**

 **I'm so so excited for this story! I've planned how the bloodbath will go so far and I think there are some twists and turns that'll surprise you. Read and review!**

 **1\. Favorite pair?**

 **2\. Have your opinions of any of these guys changed?**

 **Thank you!**


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